


Wonderful Memories

by stilldancing



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: El Profesor - Freeform, F/M, Lisboa, Raquel Murillo - Freeform, Sergio Marquina - Freeform, serquel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22267705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilldancing/pseuds/stilldancing
Summary: Inspired by the movie “Love, Rosie”.Sergio Marquina and Raquel Murillo have been friends for as long as they can remember, but life constantly seems to pull them apart. That is, until 2017, when the universe apparently changes its course and crosses their paths again.A story about friendship, love, and trying to find happiness in a complicated world.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 160
Kudos: 283





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> Some of you probably already know me from Spirit or Twitter... And now I’m here too! ;) 
> 
> So, I usually write in Portuguese, but since this fandom has grown massively after the show’s third season, I saw many people complaining about the lack of fanfiction written in English. So I decided to give it a try.
> 
> This story is already completed, so I will do my very best to post one chapter per day. But please be nice to me, yeah? :P This is not my native language, so posting this is really taking me out of my comfort zone. In any case, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I feel like this story already belongs to a special place in my heart, and I hope it’ll make you guys smile too. 
> 
> Finally, I would like to thank my lovely Paty (@1nerdy_owl on Twitter) for encouraging me to do this and for reading each single chapter I sent her. You’re amazing, amiga, and I don’t know what I’d do without you!
> 
> And please let me know what you think! Comments and constructive feedback are always always welcome <3

**Madrid, 2017. Hanói.**

Raquel sits at Hanói with a tired sigh and an annoying thump in her head.

She has decided to leave the case. Not because she doesn’t trust her own competence; she knows very well that there is a reason why they called her that afternoon. She’s a hell of a negotiator, but— but this is too much.

The problem is not the heist itself. In fact, Raquel even enjoys the calls with the Professor; simply because that’s when she feels most useful. No, it’s not the heist. It’s the _police_ what is making her work impossible.

She takes her phone from her purse and opens the contact list. But the second she finds Pietro’s number, her phone dies.

She clicks her tongue and turns to the bartender.

“Do you by any chance have a cellphone charger I can use?”

The bartender opens his mouth to answer, but before he has the chance, Raquel hears a rough voice coming from behind her:

“You can use mine if you want.”

Her heart stops.

She knows that voice. It has changed a lot over the years, but it is still as familiar as it was thirty summers ago. She’s afraid to turn around — her body freezes and she feels paralyzed for a second, because- if it’s not him...

But she turns anyway. And there he is.

He looks so different — and yet, so astonishingly familiar. His full-grown beard makes him look mature, older; but the small dark eyes behind the frame of his glasses are undoubtedly the same. He’s wearing a suit and a tie, and Raquel wonders when he became so... _Handsome_.

His name falls from her lips almost automatically.

“Sergio?” Raquel smiles. Her heart beats faster and her stomach flutters. “What-”

“I see you’re still just as forgetful.”

Raquel laughs, feeling unbelievably surprised, and stands up to walk towards him. She wraps her arms around Sergio’s neck — her head still fits perfectly against the crook of his shoulder, — and hugs him tightly.

Her heartbeat fastens, but she doesn’t feel nervous. What she feels can only be described as _happiness_. Raquel has thought about this moment several times — more than once, she considered reaching out to him; she often thought about simply contacting him and saying _‘I miss you, and I wish to see you’._ But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find Sergio. He was nowhere to be found on social media, and she felt as if calling would be too awkward. Besides a few occasional text messages (which also stopped years ago), she hasn’t heard from her childhood best friend for what feels like centuries.

“What are you doing here?” She exasperatedly inquires as they part. The first thing she notices when their eyes meet is that his still glisten the same way.

“I’m back in Madrid for a few days,” he offers, sighing deeply, as if he can’t believe his eyes. He sends her an affectionate look. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Oh my God,” she touches his shoulder with one hand. It feels too surreal to be true. “It’s been too long. How have you been?”

“Good.” He pauses. Takes a deep breath. “Better. Well— not sick. It’s gone now.”

“The disease?” Raquel all but whispers, relief running through her immediately. Sergio nods. “Sergio! That’s wonderful!”

“I know, I know,” he shakes his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “It’s a whole new life now.”

She bites her lip and stares at him in awe. The moment feels crazy, absurd, and yet... There they are. Meeting randomly in a tiny little café in Madrid. After all these years... 

Sergio grins, looking down at his own clasped hands on his lap. He shakes his head, fixes his glasses over his nose, and looks at her again.

He hands her his phone. “Here, make the call. It seemed important.”

Naturally, she had forgotten all about the damn phone call. She blinks once, coming back to reality, and takes the phone from Sergio’s hand.

“It is. Thank you. I have to make a couple of calls, but it’ll be quick.”

“Of course, of course. Take your time.”

Raquel calls her mom first. Knowing it would go straight to voicemail, she leaves her a message:

“ _Mamá_ , I just finished up. I’m on my way.”

She sees Sergio smile through the corner of her eye. Then, she dials Pietro’s number — she shouldn’t know it by heart, for God’s sake — and sighs when it also goes straight to voicemail. Of course she’s the one working late hours while Pietro is comfortably resting at home.

She figures it’s even better to simply leave a message — so she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and says:

“This is _Inspectora_ Murillo. I know it’s late, but I wanted to say that if this is handled by Intelligence because of some kind of diplomatic situation, I’m not gonna be a puppet officer while those apes storm the place. So I feel it’s my obligation to step down. I quit. Goodnight.” She pauses, realizing it’s already morning. “Good morning.”

She ends the call and hands the phone back to Sergio. He’s looking at her with confused eyes. Raquel bites her lip, knowing he’ll ask questions. She waits.

“I was about to ask-” Sergio points at the TV. The news channel is showing a video of her and Ángel talking in front of the Royal Mint. “What’s with all of that. But now I kind of just want to know if you’re okay.”

Raquel’s heart immediately expands. She grins sadly at him. “I am. It’s just... A lot.”

“I can imagine,” he offers. “But... Well, I know it’s none of my business, but I can also imagine you’re the _best goddamn officer_ in that place.”

She laughs bashfully, feeling her cheeks heat up. “And how on Earth would you know that?”

“Raquel, you always figured out all those mysterious police movies we watched after school. Usually in the first half-hour. And besides — you constantly talked me into giving you all my candy. By _negotiating_. You made me believe I _wanted_ you to eat all my stuff.” They both laugh. Raquel almost feels overwhelmed with the memory. “Which may have been a little evil now that I think about it. Did I mention we were ten?”

Raquel laughs loudly, and a deep feeling of nostalgia overcomes her. “God, I miss those days,” she breathes in, meeting his eyes. A small grin paints her face. “Where did we get lost?” Raquel says before she can filter the words. She blames it on the lack of sleep.

Sergio fixes his glasses, looking suddenly shy — and maybe, just maybe, also a little bit sad.

“Probably somewhere between your marriage and my moving to another continent.”

Raquel pinches the top of her nose with two fingers. “At least one of those worked out.”

Sergio’s eyes widen — as if he wasn’t expecting that at all. And then— slowly, carefully, he finds her hand and covers it with his own. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” she dismisses it with a wave of her hand. “And it’s way too late to talk about my sad life stories. How’s _your_ life?”

Sergio beams. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee and I’ll tell.”

“Make that a hot chocolate and we have a deal.”

“Done.”

* * *

**  
Madrid, 1994. Sergio’s bedroom.**

“Sergio,” Raquel stage whispers, tapping loudly on his bedroom window. “Sergio! Wake up!”

He jumps, startled, and grabs his glasses from the nightstand. He wasn’t sleeping yet, but the sudden noise scares him. So he puts the glasses back on his face and stands up, then practically runs towards the window.

Raquel fights the urge to laugh when she sees him, looking down to hide it. He opens the window, fixes his very probably crazy bed hair and crosses his arms, annoyed.

“Raquel, it’s two in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? You have to stop climbing my window like this, Jesus— it’s _dangerous_ —“

“It’s an emergency,” she announces before jumping inside. Slowly, careful not to make any loud noises and wake Sergio’s dad, she walks to his bed and sits down.

Then, she takes something from her pocket and holds it up. _Is it a thermometer?_ Sergio frowns, confused.

“Are you sick?”

“What?” She creases her forehead. “No.”

“Then why do you need a thermometer?”

“Oh, my-“ Raquel covers her mouth with one hand. She looks up at him with desperate, teary eyes. “Sergio, this is a pregnancy test.”

His heart stops. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_.”

He walks towards the bed, sitting on the empty space next to her. He starts to nervously bite on one nail.

“I didn’t want to do it alone.” She whispers, looking at him as if he has a _clue_ what to do.

“Was it-“ he stutters, feeling so miserable he doesn’t even want to speak. “Miguel?”

“Of course,” Raquel answers, offended. “Who else could it be?”

“Sorry,” Sergio looks down. Apparently, he’ll always say the wrong thing when it comes to Raquel. _Why can’t he be just a little bit less awkward?_ “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I- I want to help you. What can I do?”

Raquel’s eyes soften. Sergio’s heart starts to beat normally again; _that seemed to work._ She touches his shoulder, and— and Sergio feels goosebumps all over his arms. _Damn_.

“I have to pee on this thing. And then wait five minutes.” One single tear falls and runs down her cheek. “Can- can you wait with me?”

Sergio tentatively moves his hand to her face and— nervously, slowly— wipes the tear away. His thumb lingers under her eye for a second, and his heart beats so fast he worries Raquel might hear it. She seems to relax under his touch, even if just a little.

“Of course.” He smiles encouragingly. “I’ll even hold your hand if you want.”

“Thank you.”

***

They sit on the edge of Sergio’s mattress. Raquel has her head resting on his shoulder, their hands clasped together between them. They stare down at the test and at the clock Sergio placed next to it.

His thumb caresses the back of Raquel’s hand. Again and again.

_“One line, one line,”_ Raquel murmurs repeatedly under her breath.

After seven minutes have passed and a second line never shows up on the stick, Raquel lies on her back and covers her face with both hands.

“Oh thank God!”

Sergio laughs joyfully, feeling just as relieved as Raquel seems to be.

He lies down next to her. Raquel turns on her side and rests her head on one hand, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Thank you,” she smiles. “I would’ve died if I had to do this by myself.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Sergio turns his head, trying to get a better look at her. “But- um. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you come here?” His voice is so small he fears Raquel can’t hear him. “I mean- why did you come to me and not... Miguel?”

Raquel shrugs. She looks like she has not given that any thought — at least not before this very moment.

“I don’t know.” She bites her lip. “You’re my best friend. I don’t trust anyone like I trust you.”

Sergio smiles. “Not even your boyfriend?”

“Shut up,” she punches his shoulder playfully. “Stop looking so smug.”

“Alright,” he puts his hands up, laughing joyfully. “I didn’t say anything.”

After a few seconds, though, the laughter dies and Raquel looks serious again. She stares at the roof and breathes in, wetting her lips. Sergio looks away.

“I was so scared.” She admits. “Can you imagine, me as a mother? At seventeen?”

Sergio mimics her, also facing his bedroom’s roof. He stares at the little shiny stars his mother had put there when he was younger; neither he nor his dad ever had the strength to take them down.

He turns his neck to look at Raquel again. Her long golden hair is spread all over his pillow, and the clear moonlight coming from the open window makes her skin glow. She looks beautiful.

“You’d be a good mom,” he decides. “Even at seventeen.”

Raquel turns her head again, staring at him with big, surprised eyes. She sends him an emotive smile. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m just being honest.”

Then, suddenly, without any warning, she takes his hand. Sergio’s heart— stops, it _stops beating_ , and he feels his face flush immediately.

“Thank you,” she says. He’s about to dismiss it again, but she interrupts him before he has the chance. “No, really. I mean it. Thank you.”

Sergio finds her eyes, and notices they twinkle even in the darkness.

“Raquel- of course. Anytime. You know that.”

“I do,” is all she answers, lacing their fingers together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO much for your comments on the first chapter. I still need to answer some of them, but I hope you guys know how happy it made me. Seeing your reactions and opinions is so encouraging, and I’m super grateful! 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter too! <3

** Madrid, 2017. Raquel’s house.  **

When Raquel gets home that morning, her mom is already making coffee. She greets her with a tired smile and a kiss on the cheek. 

After listening to her daily comments about how skinny and tired she looks, Raquel joins her at the table with a bowl of cereal between her hands. 

“Can you guess who I saw today at Hanói?” Mariví looks at her curiously, waiting for her to continue. “Sergio. Can you believe that?”

“Sergio? Sergio Marquina?”

“Yeah. Just- randomly? I was sitting there, and... There he was.” She pauses. “Apparently he’s in Madrid for a few days.”

“And he didn’t call you first?”

“Nah...  I haven’t seen him in years. We haven’t even talked in so long.”

“You usedto be so close!” Mariví exclaims. “He was such a sweet boy. And I bet he has turned into a very handsome man now.”

Raquel covers her mouth, trying not to laugh. “ _Mamá_ , stop.”

“What? I’m just saying!”

“Uh-huh.” She brings a spoonful of cereal to her mouth. “It was- crazy. We talked for _hours_ , as if... As if we never drifted apart.”

Mariví rests her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow firm on the table. She sighs dreamily. “ _ Ay, mi hija...” _

Raquel points at her with the spoon. “No.”

Her mother laughs, shaking her head fondly.

***

Two days later, Pietro’s boss calls her. He asks her to stay in the case. 

After sleeping it off and actually clearing up her mind, Raquel ends up saying yes. 

For the first time in forever, she doesn’t feel miserable after work. This time, when she sits at Hanói, she’s in such a good mood that she orders a Martini. Not a beer, not a coffee — but a fancy drink she loves. 

It is a good day. 

She’s reaching for her phone on her purse when she hears a rough, ever so familiar voice coming from behind her. Again. 

“You look happy today.”

Raquel smiles. She bites her lips and looks down at her glass of Martini. 

“Are you following me?” She asks without looking up. 

“Maybe,” he whispers right at her ear. Raquel shudders and turns her head, a jolt of electricity suddenly striking her, and finally looks at him. She sends him a pleased smile. 

“Don’t forget I’m a cop,” she jokes. “I might arrest you for stalking.”

Sergio laughs, moving to seat in front of her. “Please don’t.”

She takes a sip from her glass and smiles at him. She can’t help it — being around Sergio again feels like going back in time. To an easier time, when she was younger and happier and didn’t know a thing about life (although she was  _ so sure _ she did). 

“Hi.” She murmurs behind her glass. 

“Hi,” he echoes. There is a pause, and then: “You really do look happy.”

“It was a good day.” 

“Did you manage to catch those guys?” Sergio points at the TV, even though there is nothing about the heist being noticed at the moment. 

“No, but we have two of their identities now.” She smiles. “Which is far from the end of the story, but it’s a win. At least for today.”

“That’s really good,” Sergio acknowledges. His relaxed grin makes Raquel involuntarily smile bigger. 

He looks at her as if he’s about to say something— but instead, he looks down, laughing lowly, and shakes his head. 

“What?” Raquel asks, amused. But Sergio just bites his lip and keeps staring at her with a grin on his lips. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” he replies. “It’s just that... I don’t know why it never occurred to me that you’d become a police officer. Now that I think about it, it was absurdly obvious.”

“Oh, shut up,” Raquel laughs. “It was... My plan B. You know that. And it’s working out pretty well.”

She doesn’t mention how her whole life feels like a plan B, but Sergio seems to understand it anyway. His eyes soften and his smile fades, giving way to an earnest look. 

“What happened to the _ ‘I’ll study tourism and open my own three-stars hotel’ _ dream?”

Raquel smiles sadly. She takes another sip of her Martini; then takes another one. 

“Life happened,” she puts her glass down on the table. Sergio already knew what her plan was at first: joining the academy, making some decent money, then leaving. She swallows hard. “I met Alberto. And... and it became a career.”

Sergio shifts uncomfortably on his seat. 

Raquel feels thankful when he doesn’t start lecturing her about how she shouldn’t settle or how dreams are important and should be pursued. Instead, he simply asks her: “are you happy?”

At that, she finishes her drink with three long gulps. 

“I’m not  _ un_happy.” She offers. “Things got better after I left him.”

Timidly, but surely, Sergio touches her hand, covering it with his own. “I’m glad.”

Raquel grins, a little bit sad, then shakes her head, trying to get out of the sad mood that suddenly took over. “What about you?” She asks. “Why are you in Spain?”

“Visiting my brother,” he replies simply. “And apparently stalking you.”

Raquel laughs. Feeling a bit lightheaded — because of the alcohol or his presence, she doesn’t know, — she rests her chin in one palm and sends him a delighted, curious look. 

“How’s your dad?”

At that very moment, Raquel wishes she could take back her words. Sergio’s expression turns so completely heartbroken and devastated that— that her own heart breaks, too. 

He fixes his glasses and clasps his hands together over the table. After taking a deep breath, he finally answers, his voice small: “he passed away a few years ago.”

Raquel’s heart sinks. She feels her eyes well up with sudden tears— but she holds them in, feeling guilty for being so sad when  she should be comforting  him — 

“Oh, Sergio,” she exclaims, biting her lip. “I’m really sorry.”

Memories of Sergio’s father inevitably start invading her head — images of the three of them dining together, laughing, putting up Christmas lights all over the house... She smiles sadly at the last remembrance. They used to do it every year, as soon as November came. It used to be one of her favorite things in the world. 

Sergio’s father was a simple, humble man. He was always working long hours, always trying to make more money to pay for Sergio’s treatments. But even though he was constantly busy, he was always,  always present. 

He was such a good man. 

Raquel isn’t able to hold the tears in anymore, but rapidly wipes them away, hoping Sergio wouldn’t notice. But— well, of  course he does. 

“I’m sorry, I—” she laughs a bit awkwardly, shifting on her seat. “I shouldn’t react like this. I just... Have very dear memories of him. He was-”

“Very special,” Sergio completes. “I know. And- don’t apologize. It’s... Good to talk about this with someone who knew him too.” He pauses, looking right into her eyes. “Someone who understands.”

Raquel wants to ask what happened. What killed him, why-  why he died. But she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches over the table and touches his forearm, her grip firm. He nods at her once, as if in acknowledgment— maybe even silent gratitude.

“And Andrés?”

Sergio rubs his beard, exhaling slowly. “Same as always.”

Raquel laughs, immediately understanding what he means. 

* * *

** Madrid, 1995. Sergio’s house. **

They’re sitting on the living room’s couch, devouring a big bowl of popcorn and watching The Lion King for what must be the 200th time. 

Raquel’s favorite song starts playing at the same second they hear a loud noise coming from upstairs. It’s the sound of a bed creaking repeatedly, followed by loud, obnoxious moans. 

Raquel rolls her eyes. Sergio turns bright red. 

She turns the volume up, trying to ignore the noises, and brings another handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

It seems to do the job — at least for a full ten minutes. Then it comes back — even louder, more annoying groans. 

“Ughhhhh-” Raquel exclaims, bumping her head at the back of the sofa. She pauses the movie and turns to Sergio, who looks so red that Raquel wonders how he hasn’t exploded yet. “How do you put up with that?”

She stands up, ready to storm upstairs and make Andrés stop that  immediately . But Sergio holds her wrist, making her stop.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna make them stop this. Right now.”

“No, Raquel— _please_ ,” Sergio sends her a desperate look. She hesitates. “He’s going to be mad at me. Don’t go there.”

“Why?!” She throws one hand in the air. “ _ You _ should be mad, not the contrary.”

“I know, but-”

“You shouldn’t be scared of your brother.” Raquel crosses her arm, annoyed. “Does he do that every single time your dad works late?”

“Not _every_ single time,” Sergio tries to defend him. “But often.”

“ _God_ , Sergio.”

Giving up, she sits down on the sofa again. Sergio doesn’t say anything — just keeps looking at her nervously, as if begging her not to go upstairs.

“Okay, okay,” she shakes her head. “But then... Let’s get out of here.”

“And go where?” He laughs, fixing his glasses.

“Come on, go take those ugly pajamas off.”

“What? Why-”

“There’s a party at Miguel’s tonight. We’re going.”

“Your ex-boyfriend’s place?” Sergio’s eyes widen. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“It’s either that, or I’m going up there,” she points at the stairs.

Sergio rapidly stands up. “Alright, you win.”

* * *

** Madrid, 2017. Hanói. **

“Andrés was... Andrés,” she giggles, overwhelmed with memories. “But if it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have gone to Miguel’s party that night.”

Sergio shakes his head and giggles, nervously fitting his glasses again. Raquel never forgot his endearing habit, and the fact that he still does it warms her heart in a weird way.

“That is true.”

Raquel nods at the bartender when he hands her another Martini. Sergio accompanies her with a bottle of beer.

After he takes a sip from it, he looks at her with big eyes and inquires:

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You’re lucky I’m drinking,” she jokes. And then, a bit more serious: “Of course.”

Sergio breathes in as if preparing himself to make the words come out. “Why did you get divorced?”

Raquel bites her lip. “You’re  _really_ lucky I’m drinking,” she laughs nervously. “Otherwise I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked—”

“No, no, I’m glad you did.” She interrupts. Sergio takes another gulp of beer. Raquel closes her eyes. “He was abusive. He- he has a restraining order now, so he can’t get near me or Paula. But— yeah, that’s... That’s it. Long story short. I got divorced because my ex-husband used to beat me.”

Sergio goes pale. Raquel has never seen such anger in his eyes — and for a second, she regrets telling him. Seeing madness on his face is not a good feeling, not at all, and now he looks so angry she wishes she could take it back—

But then— then he leaps to his feet, so fast Raquel feels a bit dizzy, and pulls her into his arms in a tight, almost desperate hug. She freezes for a second, but rapidly catches up, enveloping her arms around him and tucking her nose against his neck.

It’s so familiar it’s nearly unbearable.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until he lets her go. Her heart expands when she sees him wiping a tear of his own.

“Is he in jail?” His voice goes down three octaves.

“No,” she replies. “But he can’t get near us.”

He sits back down, looking lost in thought and overwhelmed with anger.

“This isn’t fair.”

She laughs bitterly. “What about life is?”

“No, Raquel. He- he should pay for what he’s done.”

Raquel tries to analyze the look on his face. It’s— it’s _torment_ , agony, and— one single thought crosses her mind. She asks the question before she realizes she’s even talking.

“Why didn’t you come to my wedding?”

Sergio, then, startles. The obviously unexpected question makes him hesitate; he gapes at her for seconds — seconds that feel like hours. He blinks once; then twice. Finally, he closes his mouth, holds the bottle of beer with two hands, and looks down at it.

“It hurt too much.”

At first, sadness invades Raquel’s soul. His voice is so small, his eyes so honest— she wants to bury her face on his shoulder and cry. But then...

She remembers the pure _misery_ she felt during the days after he left. He  _ left _ — and she was happy he could get a better, proper treatment, she  _ was _ , — but  he was the one who made the decision of ‘staying friends’. She was more than ready to fight for him —  _ he _ was the one who didn’t want to.

All Raquel did was move on.

She wants to tell him all of that. She wants to point at him and say that this is not fair. It’s not fair that now, after all these years, he is sitting there with those huge eyes she still seems to know so well and saying that watching her get married to someone else ‘ _hurt too much‘_ . It’s not fair, because— because she would have chosen him in a second if he had given her the chance.

She doesn’t say any of that, but Sergio seems to understand it with a single look.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “You asked a question and I— I had to be honest. But this is inappropriate, I should—”

“I should probably go now,” she interrupts, standing up abruptly.

The conversation has gone to a direction Raquel wasn’t ready to go in, at least not yet, and she feels— _suffocated, beaten,_ and— she needs to leave. Right now.

Ignoring the heartbreak in Sergio’s eyes, Raquel storms past him, the little bell above the door ringing as she runs off the restaurant. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! :)
> 
> A quick recommendation: I added a link in a specific point of this chapter, you should listen to it while you read it!

**Madrid, 1995. Raquel’s house.**

They make a quick stop at Raquel’s house so she can change her sweatpants into house-party-appropriate clothes.

Sergio loses his footing when she comes downstairs.

He tries not to gape, but obviously fails. Raquel changed her sweatpants into a beautiful, backless black dress. Her legs seem to go on forever — and Sergio wonders _how_ , how the _hell_ , she’s so _tiny_ — and the dark fabric makes her skin look pale.

She’s stunning. Absolutely stunning.

Raquel, however, seems to not even notice his reaction. She distractedly digs for something inside her purse and only looks up at him after a minute.

“What?” She smirks, finally seeing the dazed look on his face.

“N-nothing,” Sergio shakes his head, looking at his own feet.

“Okay, weirdo,” is all she answers. “Let’s go.”

*

Raquel sits on the floor, near the big illuminated pool in the garden, sipping on a big glass of gin and tonic. Sergio sits next to her, his bare feet on the water.

Sergio hates parties. All these people getting drunk and eating each other’s faces off makes him feel nervous and even a little bit disgusted. How can people be so stupid to the point of drinking so much they _pass out?_

“I can _hear_ your judgmental thoughts,” Raquel nudges at his shoulder with her own. “Stop that.”

“What did you expect?” Sergio giggles.

But Raquel doesn’t answer— because suddenly, her favorite song starts playing.

She jumps, leaping to her feet, and starts pulling Sergio by the arm. Bon Jovi’s voice starts playing on the loudspeakers.

“Come onnnn!” She cries, pulling harder.

“Wait, I’m not wearing any shoes!”

Raquel ignores his protests and takes him to where a few other people are dancing — a clearly improvised dance floor in the middle of the garden. He shakes his head, giving up on trying to go back to get his shoes, and giggles fondly when Raquel starts moving.

She sings along to the lyrics _(you give love a bad name, yeah!)_ , using her glass of gin and tonic as a microphone. When she notices Sergio is simply standing there awkwardly, she takes his arms and forces him to move them, laughing when she manages to make him move a bit.

He nervously looks around, knowing that people would make fun of them if they paid attention. Raquel, however, after lowering down to put her glass on the floor, touches his face with both hands and makes him look at her again. She points at her own eyes with two fingers.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

Sergio’s heart skips a beat.

“Stop worrying about what they’ll think,” she all but screams, the loud music making it difficult to talk. “Fuck them. Don’t hold back.”

Sergio sighs deeply. Then nods once. He starts moving— just a little bit, almost imperceptibly, but... It’s enough. Raquel starts clapping her hands together excitedly, urging him on. _“Yes!”_

He continues, feeling more confident as the song keeps playing. When he starts moving his arms, slowly and then more surely, Raquel throws her head back and laughs wildly, her eyes going small. For some reason, Sergio _knows_ she’s not laughing to make fun of him— she never did that. He has been laughed at before, and Raquel’s laughter is completely different than that. It’s happy and honest and probably the most pleasing sound he has ever heard— ever.

And then... Then, the song changes.

_[And I will stroll the merry way, and jump the hedges first...](https://youtu.be/JFAp3aRJ2vA) _

Raquel smiles. Sergio knows she loves Van Morrison — even more than Bon Jovi, although he’s not sure how that’s possible. He smiles back. They keep standing there, unmoving, until Raquel stops looking around and takes a step closer.

Sergio realizes everyone else has started dancing in pairs.

Slowly, Raquel touches his shoulder with one hand. He freezes.

“Take my hand,” she whispers. This time he can hear her well — they’re standing so close he can see all the colors in her irises. And then, finally, he obeys and takes her hand in his, smiling down at her, his heart bursting inside his chest.

Raquel lets her fingers slide down his arm, and Sergio places his free hand on her waist. He takes it as an opportunity to draw her closer, their bodies touching from knees to chest.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” she laughs, a hand moving back to his shoulder.

_And I will drink the clear, clean water for to quench my thirst_

Sergio giggles back, remembering to breathe in. And then out. Carefully, calmly.

Raquel moves one foot. Then, the other. As Van Morrison’s voice fills their ears, Sergio manages to follow her and they slow-dance together in the same rhythm. It’s almost as if Sergio has been doing this his whole life.

_And I shall watch the ferryboats_

_And they'll get high on a bluer ocean_

_Against tomorrow's sky_

Raquel’s hand moves up his neck and Sergio feels goosebumps all over his arms. Her eyes sparkle against the moonlight — the sky is so bright and clear today; Sergio is sure it is only for her.

He feels so stupid. He is a damn cliché, that’s what he is. A stupid teenage nerd who fell in love with his beautiful, kind, unbelievably out-of-his-league best friend. But— well, he decides he’ll happily be a walking cliché for his whole goddamn life if Raquel keeps looking at him like this. 

_And I will never grow so old again_

_And I will walk and talk_

_In gardens all wet with rain_

She smiles timidly, her nose wrinkling. For some reason, she looks shy all of a sudden — and when she hides her face on Sergio’s neck, he is one hundred percent sure she can feel just how fast his heart is beating. She touches his chest, her thumb caressing the fabric of his shirt.

That is exactly the moment when he feels someone poking his back.

His heart sinks instantly. Of course, _of course_ this moment would be abruptly interrupted.

He has already accepted the end of it when he turns his head and, as he predicted, sees Miguel standing right there. His bright green eyes look at him pleadingly. Sergio tightens his grip on Raquel’s waist involuntarily.

“Do you mind if I steal her for a second?”

_Yes. Yes, I do mind._

But instead of answering — instead of saying what he wants and telling Miguel to _get the hell off,_ — he moves his hand up Raquel’s back until he reaches the top of her head. She moves her face so she can look at him, and it’s— it’s as if she was so lost in the moment that she hasn’t even noticed Miguel’s presence.

And then, unbelievably, _miraculously_ , her reaction, when she sees him, is— a dismissive hand. _She waves a dismissive hand._ Sergio’s breath catches and he tries to hide a smile, because Raquel... She— she doesn’t even give Miguel a second look. Instead, she lies her head on Sergio’s shoulder again and says loudly:

“Leave me alone.”

Her arms envelop Sergio’s middle. He feels her warm breath against his neck. Shivers run down his spine.

Miguel tries to protest. But Raquel simply holds one finger up and, without even moving her head off Sergio’s chest, where she has comfortably rested again, says: “don’t you dare ruin this too.”

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

_My, my, my, my, my sweet thing_

At that, Sergio has to literally hide his smile in Raquel’s hair.

He looks at Miguel, who stands there with his mouth agape, his face red. Sergio shrugs, sending him a look that says ‘ _sorry, man_ ’ — however fake that might have been. He is anything but sorry.

When Miguel leaves, snorting heavily, Sergio is suddenly the happiest person on Earth.

_And I will raise my hand up_

_Into the night time sky_

_And count the stars_

_That's shining in your eye_

He feels brave. He wants to— he wants to hold her chin up and count the colors of her eyes. He wants to run his fingertips over her cheeks and the girth of her lips and verify how her soft skin feels against his fingers.

He wants to kiss her. Sergio has lost count of how many times he wanted to kiss her, and yet, the desire has never been as strong as it is right now. 

_Just to dig it all an' not to wonder_

_That's just fine_

Raquel lifts her head. Their eyes meet once again.

Her smile is brighter than the moon above them.

_And I'll be satisfied_

_Not to read in between the lines_

Sergio stops breathing altogether when Raquel leans her forehead against his. She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, their noses touching.

It’s _exhilarating_ , and Sergio doesn’t want the song to end.

And then— and then, so very gently, Raquel whispers against his anxious lips:

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

_And I will walk and talk_

_In gardens all wet with rain_

Sergio waits. He feels her warm breath touch his face repeatedly. Her eyes roam over his face before she closes them so, so slowly. It’s torture, and it’s bliss — all at once, all at the same time.

The moment their lips tentatively, finally — _finally_ — touch, the world stops.

Everything around them goes silent. All Sergio can hear is Raquel’s breathing, the weak sound of her fingers running through his hair, and Van Morrison’s deep voice in the background.

As always, he lets Raquel guide him. His lips part under hers; his tongue only searches for her when he feels she’s doing the same. But his hands— his hands seem to work on their own accord, moving up and down her bare back, settling over her jaw and pulling her closer, closer, _closer_. He hears a hollow, faint groan escape her lips. It feels unreal, and the ground seems to disappear from Sergio’s feet.

_And I will never, ever, ever, ever_

_Grow so old again_

It’s not his first kiss, but it’s the first one that makes him feel as if he could burst into flames at any second.

It is the first kiss he shares with someone he actually cares about; someone he loves. Someone he loves so much he can’t stop kissing, can’t stop _touching_ —

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

They part for air with a wet sound.

When Raquel opens her eyes, her pupils are so dark Sergio can see his reflection in them.

With her face between his hands, Sergio runs his thumbs over her cheekbones and— and before he has time to say anything at all, she’s surging towards him, their lips crashing together one more time.

_Sugar-baby with your champagne eyes_

_And your saint-like smile_

* * *

**Madrid, 2017. Hanói.**

There are no damn taxis in the entire city.

The rain is pouring and there are no cars _anywhere_.

Raquel completely forgot it’s a national holiday. Shit. She shouldn’t stay outside so late when she’s relying on public transportation, for God’s sake. _You should know better_ , _Raquel_.

Trying to find a car on every app she has on her phone, Raquel ends up waiting outside for 27 minutes.

That’s exactly how long it takes for her to calm down — and exactly the amount of time it takes for Sergio to come out the door as well.

He stops with his hand on the door handle and stares at her, surprised.

“I thought you’d left?”

She shows him the screen of her phone, still desperately trying to find an Uber.

“No transportation today, huh?”

“Nope,” she sighs, throwing her hands down. Then, she points at the rain, falling furiously in front of them. “I would try the bus, but...”

“My place is just around the corner,” he says swiftly, the words falling from his lips so fast Raquel has to fight the urge to smile. “If you want a nicer place to wait for the rain to pass?”

“Really?” She teases, crossing her arms and biting her bottom lip, trying to suppress a smirk.

“Well, if- if you’re comfortable.

Raquel almost says no. She should find a way to go home right now. Paula has a sleepover tonight, but her mom doesn’t like to be alone, she should...

She looks at Sergio. He looks so endearingly nervous— so familiar and so very handsome, that... She says yes.

“Alright,” she presses ‘ _cancel_ ’ on the Uber app and throws her phone back inside the purse. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and comments are always welcome! ♥️


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥️♥️♥️

_Where do we begin? The rubble or our sins?_

**Madrid, 2017. Andrés’ studio.**

“It’s an old place my brother has,” Sergio explains while he opens the door. “He let me stay here so I wouldn’t have to pay for accommodation.”

Raquel looks around. The place is a bit dusty, but still, in an unusual way, decidedly cozy.

“Sorry about the mess,” he atones, walking towards her to take her jacket.

Raquel watches as he politely takes it off her shoulders, placing it in a hanger over the door.

“It’s lovely,” she states, sitting down at the small, black-leather sofa placed at the back of the studio.

“I tried to make it nicer. Added some light...” He laughs, rubbing his neck awkwardly and sitting on the empty spot next to her. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Raquel shakes her head. “I’m good, thank you.”

“Something to eat?”

She laughs, affection washing over her. She reaches his hand, her warm fingers finding his cold ones. “Relax. It’s just me.”

Sergio giggles back. Looking down at their clasped hands, he shakes his head once. “That’s the point,” he whispers, so lowly.

A wave of heat invades Raquel’s spine. She shivers when his thumb starts caressing her palm.

“I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“What?” He holds her hand between both of his, looking at her with wide eyes. “No, you didn’t freak out. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

She sighs tiredly. “It’s just-” she pauses, blowing air out of her lungs. “I missed you. And- and maybe I’m still angry. At you. For... For leaving.”

Sergio opens his mouth to respond, but Raquel keeps going.

“Which is not fair to you, not at all— it was your life, your _health_ , and I— I’m so glad you’re healthy now, Sergio, you- you have no idea how happy that makes me.” She smiles, her eyes burning. “But I... I thought... I thought you’d try harder.”

Raquel sees a single tear run down his cheek. Then realizes she’s crying too.

“You chose not to,” she completes. Finally saying the words feels like getting an enormous weight out of her shoulders.

Sergio takes a while to answer. With his gaze fixed on her, a firm grip on her hand, he says calmly:

“Raquel, I thought I was dying.” His voice breaks, and she— she breaks a little, too. “I was so, so sure I was dying that I never even allowed myself to think about the future. And I- I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t let what we had grow into something bigger, because I was convinced I wouldn’t be able to offer you more than a few years.” He pauses, his breathing erratic. “And I couldn’t do that to you. It would be too selfish.”

Raquel wipes her face with her free hand. Out of all the things she expected him to say, _that_ — that has never crossed her mind.

Her heart forgives him immediately.

She squeezes his hand, finally warm against hers. Then lets out a muffled laugh.

“Jee, I thought I was over all that,” she sniffs. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of- of course,” Sergio shrugs.

Raquel smiles. It’s as if the world is a little bit brighter now — even with all the crying and the apparently still open wounds, being around Sergio again feels like coming back home.

“This is crazy,” she concedes. Sergio rests his temple in one hand, his elbow on the back of the sofa, paying her full attention. “It’s been such a long time. Why does it feel like nothing has changed?”

He grins. His eyes are fond and glossy, and if Raquel gets lost in there for a few seconds, she- she blames it on nostalgia. Then, Sergio lets go of her hand slowly, delicately, and moves it to her face, taking a stray of golden hair out of her eyes and placing it behind her ear. It’s such a gentle, tender gesture, that Raquel stops breathing for a moment.

His eyes move from her hair to her eyes, and then — for an unbelievable, _perfect_ second — to her lips. Butterflies seem to awaken in Raquel’s stomach — butterflies that she thought were dead, but were simply asleep, — and her heartbeat fastens.

“Maybe,” Sergio starts, his voice so deep she feels goosebumps all over. “Maybe that’s why I can’t stand the urge to kiss you right now.”

Raquel’s breath catches, her heart stutters and her mind— _her mind goes blank_. Silent. As if Sergio is the only person in the world, as if this moment is all that matters.

Sergio is irresistible, _inevitable_ , and by the time his hands are on her face and his open, soft lips close over hers, she is _gone_ and— completely, unashamedly— _his_.

She breathes in through her nose and lets him pull her close, lets his tongue enter her mouth and find hers, lets the kiss grow more intense and more desperate, — until their bodies are so close together she doesn’t have another option other than straddling his thighs, his strong hands on her waist. She breaks the kiss for air, their foreheads touching, breaths mingling. When she opens her eyes, Sergio is looking at her with dark ones, pupils dilated, lips glistening. She bites her lip involuntarily, and Sergio groans. She’s surprised when he moves his neck to kiss her again, keeping her bottom lip between his teeth as they separate.

Raquel feels an uncontrollable heat between her legs and sighs in relief when Sergio presses his own arousal against her. With their open mouths against one another, he slides his hands up her back, taking the fine fabric of her shirt off and throwing it on the floor.

> _[I forgot how good this could feel](https://open.spotify.com/track/3GuKZgCLfoeB35fzZ1FWQX?si=V0yW5bF-SwCBn520hp-GJQ)_
> 
> _Close my eyes, holding the steering wheel_ _  
> _

She breathes heavily against his mouth as he cups her breasts over her bra. Impatient, Raquel takes it off herself, desperate to feel his hands against her. She takes off his glasses, places it on the back of the sofa, and lets out an unintentional moan, unable to control her reactions anymore. His thumbs brush her sensitive nipples— and she can feel him palpitate under his pants, making her breathless, _breathless_ —

She takes off his tie and then his suit, — _why is he so dressed?_ — laughing when the sleeve gets stuck on his wrist. He pops the buttons and finally takes it off, throwing the piece of clothing over her shirt on the floor.

While Raquel undoes the buttons of his shirt, he looks up at her. His huge eyes make her stop for a second. The smile on his face suddenly seems to light up the entire room.

She’s about to ask _‘what?’,_ when he takes one hand to the back of her neck, his fingers getting lost on her long locks. His other hand, firm on the curve of her left thigh, keeps her in place, pressed against him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her again— lavishly, desperately, as if he needs it to keep breathing.

> _Spilling my confessions, midnight on the 405_

She starts moving her hips, the friction making Sergio break the kiss to breathe. She takes the opportunity to finish taking his shirt off, and when their naked fronts meet, it’s— _heaven_. _Absolute heaven._

For now, she doesn’t think about anything at all. She knows that this is not just a casual hookup — this is Sergio, _her_ Sergio, her childhood best friend who has known her _forever_ , — but she really doesn’t want to think about what it means, not now, because—

> _We really shouldn't be left alone  
> _ _The way we get into each other's bones, yeah  
> _ _'Cause you've got your life now and I've got mine_

Because now, all she cares about is the feeling of his hands against her skin and the warmth of his erratic breathing against her neck.

> _Take me home, I'm dying_

They take each other’s pants off in one single move. Sergio changes their positions and settles his body over hers, the fabric of their underwear the only thing separating them.

Sergio traces the line of her jaw with his lips, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. He moves his attention to her neck, then to the space between her breasts. He takes one nipple between his lips, and Raquel arches her back, urging him on.

His kisses reach her stomach, her navel, and then finally — _finally_ , — he slowly gets rid of her underwear.

He rests his face on the inside of her thigh, looking up at her with hungry eyes.

Raquel bites her lip when Sergio presses a soft kiss _right there_ — not even nearly close to what she needs, but— but then he uses two fingers touch her once, lightly, and closes his hungry lips on her warmth, making her quiver and arch her back once again, her fingers lost in his hair.

> _I'd never fall in love with someone else again  
> _ _If I could only taste your lips and this adrenaline_

She bites on one finger to suppress her moans, opening her legs wider, giving all of herself over.

Sergio keeps moving his head, ever so slowly, and it’s as if they’ve been doing this forever, because— he seems to know her _so_ well. He seems to know exactly how to do it— how to drive her absolutely mad.

But suddenly, he stops. With one wet kiss on the inside of her thigh, he surges up, his face in front of her.

He kisses her once. She feels so turned on she’s afraid she’ll burst.

“Don’t hold back,” Sergio whispers between kisses. “Why are you holding back?”

Her hands move up and down his sweaty back. Then, she realizes he still has his underwear on — and rushes to take it off, pushing it down with her feet.

“I don’t know,” she giggles, a bit nervously.

Truth is, she probably got used to holding back. By the end of her marriage, sex had become something else entirely; it wasn’t something she enjoyed anymore — but an obligation.

But Sergio doesn’t allow her to think about it. She’s glad, because— she doesn’t want Alberto creeping in even now, for God’s sake. He has ruined a lot, but she won’t let him ruin this too.

“Then don’t,” he kisses her chin, biting it lightly. “I want to hear you.”

At that, Raquel is sure she’ll die of pure arousal in two seconds if he doesn’t start fucking her _right now_ —

“Sergio-” she moves her hips impatiently. Then, closes her fingers around his erection, making him gasp, and places him right at her entrance. “Now. Please.”

“Wait, wait,” he laughs, reaching over to the small desk next to the sofa. He opens one drawer and digs for a few seconds, finally finding what he’s looking for — a condom.

Raquel doesn’t think about why he has condoms in the small table next to the _sofa, of all places_. She doesn’t let her mind go there. Instead, she waits for him to open it and put it on, looking up at him ravenously.

Sergio laughs again, holding his own weight on one hand, the other touching her face.

He kisses her. Slowly, almost romantically, making her gasp and open her legs, anxious for more.

“Guide me,” he murmurs against her lips at the same moment he starts entering her. She opens her mouth, letting out a dazed breath, opening up around him. His hand moves from her face to her arm, and he makes her move one hand to his own waist. Their eyes are locked together, hearts beating at the same rhythm. “Tell me what feels good.”

And that— that is when Raquel remembers the kind of lover Sergio is. He’s so— so attentive, so absurdly observant, as if her body is a book he wants to learn and study and discover. Her pleasure is his own— seeing her dissolve under him is what does it for him, and Raquel—

She gives him exactly what he wants.

He moves slowly at first, his hips meeting hers again and again. Then Raquel’s grip on him tightens, and he seems to get the message, increasing the pace. He holds one breast, his other hand firm on her waist, keeping her there.

It’s hard to believe such a wonderful thing is happening. Raquel takes a moment to look at his face. Sweat is dripping from his forehead, his eyes are big and familiar, and his nose touches hers so delicately Raquel could cry.

She touches his cheek with her fingertips, and he closes his eyes, welcoming the touch.

“F-faster,” she forces herself to say, wrapping her legs around him and then— it’s _perfect_ , completely perfect, and Sergio—

Sergio notices she’s close and finds her most sensitive spot, rubbing it with his thumb, again and again, — until Raquel is shaking in his arms, crying out, her nails sinking on the skin of his back.

Sergio’s spasms follow right after— Raquel can feel _all_ of him inside her.

They breathe together, exhausted, accelerated hearts beating in the same tune.

> _I'd never leave here, never leave your bed_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (By the way, if anyone wants to talk on twitter, my username is @untilthesundies. I tweet in Portuguese but I promise I’m nice :P)
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your comments! You guys are the best 💕


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments, lovelies! You’re amazing <3
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! ❤️

**Madrid, 1995. Sergio’s house.**

That night, when Sergio comes back home, he is walking on clouds.

The smell of Raquel's perfume is still impregnated on his clothes. If he closes his eyes, he can still feel her lips on his.

He’s smiling like a fool when his dad enters the room.

“Ahhh, no, don’t try to hide this stupid smile, I saw it!” He jokes, tapping Sergio’s leg so he would move and give him space to sit. “What is it?”

Sergio shakes his head, smiling down at his own feet. He feels his cheeks warm up. “Nothing.”

His dad playfully punches his shoulder. “Don’t pretend you don’t want to tell me! Come on, spill.”

For some reason, Sergio can’t bring himself to say it. Maybe because saying it makes it real to the rest of the world, and he’s not sure he’s ready to get out of their own personal bubble.

But his father, apparently, knows him too well.

“Is it Raquel?”

Sergio lies down on the bed, not wanting to look at his dad’s face. “Yes.”

“ _Ay_ , finally! This was like a fucking telenovela, Jesus Christ.”

They both laugh. Sergio’s dad lies next to him, facing the roof.

“But, son, I-” he starts, pausing to clear his throat. “I need to tell you something.”

Sergio turns his neck, taken aback by his tone of voice. “What?”

“Let’s sit down, yeah?”

He obeys, his heartbeat accelerating.

“Dad, you’re scaring me.”

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” He smiles. Then takes Sergio’s hand. “Do you remember your doctor called last week? He wanted to talk to the both of us, but since you had that crazy History exam, I paid him a visit by myself. I was afraid it could be something serious, but... It was actually really good news.”

Sergio doesn’t allow himself to get his hopes up. He knows he’s not cured, he _knows_ —

“There’s a private hospital in Canada that specializes in Helmer’s myopathy. I- I have it all figured out, son. I have the school, the money for the plane tickets — everything.”

Sergio is overwhelmed. He can’t speak, he can’t— he can’t react.

“R-really?” He breathes out, his eyes welling.

“Really.”

“But dad, you already work so much. How are we going to afford this?”

At that, his father hugs him tightly. Sergio buries his face on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about money. Do you hear me?” They separate. His father squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, but first — we’ll get you the _best_ treatment. I promise.”

Sergio hugs him again, his heart on his throat.  
 ****

* * *

**  
Madrid, 2017. Andrés’ studio.**

Raquel rests her head on Sergio’s chest as he runs the tips of his fingers up and down her naked back. She has absolutely no idea how they managed to fit in such a small sofa. It’s not even remotely comfortable — the leather sticks to their skin, the armrest is too hard to lie on, and it’s just _so small._

And yet, there is nowhere else she’d rather be.

She turns her neck, eyes looking for his. Sergio grins when he notices she’s staring.

He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’re staring.”

“No, I’m not,” she denies, suppressing a laugh.

“What is it?” He smiles and keeps pressing soft kisses on her face, this time on the tip of her nose. She grins, placing one against his lips.

“I just-” she touches his arm, finding his hand and interlacing their fingers together. “I can’t believe you’re here.

Sergio’s smile is huge. And beautiful. And Raquel feels so stupid, but she could look at it for hours.

_Hours_. That’s when she remembers.

Sergio probably notices the worry on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, it’s just... I can’t stay.”

“Yes, you can,” he holds her tighter, pressing her body against his.

Raquel hides her laughter on his neck.

“No, really, I... I need to pick Paula and her friends and bring them to school.”

Sergio, then, moves his head so he can look at her. Their faces are inches apart, but now she can see his eyes better.

“I always knew you’d be an incredible mom.”

Her heart swells. “Not at seventeen, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would.” He squeezes her hand, resting his forehead against hers. And then, with a gentle, quiet voice, he asks: “Do you really need to go?”

She nods. “I’m sorry.”

Sergio shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t apologize. And look— the rain is gone now. Maybe we can even find you a taxi.”

Raquel responds with a kiss. It starts slowly, almost innocently, and gradually grows more passionate. Sergio groans lowly, moving his leg between hers, and Raquel—

Raquel ends up staying for two more hours.

* * *

**Madrid, 1995. School.**

Sergio steps out of the bus feeling uneasy.

First, he doesn’t know how to say hi to Raquel today. Are they still just friends? Should he act normal, or should he say good morning with a kiss? Should he wait and see what she’ll do?

And how the hell is he going to tell her he’s moving to Canada?

After what happened at the party, Raquel had pulled him into a hidden, quiet corner near the pool. They didn’t talk. Sergio remembers muffled laughter, shy kisses, and Raquel’s golden eyes. He still doesn’t know how much time they stayed there, exchanging caresses and making out, but he could have stayed there forever.

That night, they parted ways with flushed cheeks and a bashful look on their faces. In fact, just thinking about it makes Sergio’s blood run all the way up to his face, all over again.

He’s about to step inside the school when his thoughts are abruptly interrupted.

A pair of arms suddenly wrap around his shoulder, and someone jumps over his back. He has to grab the door handle in order to keep his balance, his other hand grabbing the leg that is suddenly enveloping his waist. He laughs, surprised when he feels the kiss Raquel places on his cheek.

“Good morning,” she says happily.

Sergio feels stupid for being so nervous.

“Hey, there,” he helps Raquel place her feet back on the ground. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

Raquel laughs, taking a step closer and moving her hands to Sergio’s shoulders. She slowly wraps her arms around his neck, and he subconsciously holds her waist. Their faces are close, and people are probably gonna talk— but Sergio couldn’t care less.

“Am I still allowed to kiss you?” Sergio intends it as a joke, but his voice comes out small and hesitant, and he wishes he could hide his face right now—

But Raquel smiles anyway, so he counts it as a win.

She responds with a soft kiss to his lips. Brief, small, but— enough.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

***

It takes him one week.

Sergio tried to start the conversation so many times. But then— then Raquel looked at him with those piercing brown eyes and all he could think about was kissing her _immediately_. The conversation could always wait, anyway.

But in that week, Sergio has time to think.

He knows he loves Raquel. He has known it for quite some time, now. But he never thought she could love him back, and now...

Of course, he observes the way she looks at him now. It’s different, and it makes his stomach do back-flips, and he- he starts to wonder if maybe, just _maybe_ , she is falling in love with him too.

Normally, the thought would make him so happy he would go mad. But now...

Just the simple thought of leaving her brings tears to his eyes. He has no idea how to deal with this feeling, and- and if maybe, just maybe, Raquel feels the same for him as he feels for her... Then, she’ll suffer too.

And besides, the treatment in Canada is not any guarantee that he’s going to get better. Sergio has gone to many disappointing doctor appointments throughout his life, but the last few ones have been particularly disheartening. Although no one will say it with such harsh words, Sergio _knows_ he’s dying. He knows his muscles will stop working at some point— no matter how much exercise he practices, no matter how much medicine he takes, no matter how many doctors he sees. He’s eighteen-years-old, and he’s dying.

It’s a tragedy, Sergio knows. He should be able to simply enjoy his adolescence. He should be able to just _be_ with the person he fell in love with without having to think about all of this.

But that’s not his life.

So he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and makes the (perhaps) hardest decision he has ever made in his short life.

***

Raquel cries on his shoulder.

Sergio holds her so, so tight— and yet, even with his fingers almost disappearing in her hair and his face all but hidden on her neck, it’s not enough. It’s not close enough, and Sergio wishes he could merge their souls together and disappear in her.

She cries, and he cries too, and she says she‘s happy he’ll get the best possible treatment but— her eyes are sad, the saddest Sergio’s ever seen since they met eight years ago, and he doesn’t know what to do.

Then, it stops. Her breathing comes back to normal and she looks up at him, wiping her face, eyes red and swollen.

“I- I need you to understand something,” she says slowly, carefully. “Please, don’t ever think I don’t want you to get the best possible treatment. All I want is for you to be healthy.”

Sergio nods, listening carefully.

“I just wish the best possible treatment was here in Madrid.”

Sergio holds her face between both hands, his gaze fixed in her eyes. “I know,” he runs his thumb over her cheekbones. “I know.”

More than anything, Sergio wants to kiss her. His eyes alternate between hers and her lips and he wants to close the space between them and _kiss_ her, but... But they just decided that remaining friends is the best choice right now. Although Sergio was the one who suggested it, Raquel seemed to agree; that’s what is best, at least for now, and that’s what they have decided. Both of them.

Then why is she looking at him like this?

Sergio wets his lips, and watches as Raquel’s pupils go dark.

“Sergio, I-” she swallows nervously, one hand coming up to caress Sergio’s face. She stares right at his lips, her gaze unmoving. “I know you want to stay friends, but- but before we go back to that, I...”

“Yes,” Sergio breathes out, finally pulling her towards him and crashing their lips together.

They kiss passionately, almost desperately, as if they both need the contact to keep breathing. It’s different than all the other kisses they’ve shared; those were innocent— as if they were learning how to unwrap each other— at every touch.

But this— this is something else. And when Raquel moves closer, straddling his legs and sitting on his lap, Sergio’s heart stops. He touches her back hesitantly, nervously. Raquel breaks the kiss.

“I really want to...” she presses down against him, making Sergio breathe out. “To be with you. Just once.”

His heart breaks and expands at the same time, and Sergio is completely unsure of how it is possible to feel so much at the same time, but— he goes with it anyway. He nods, Raquel’s weight against him, then closes his eyes when she kisses him again.

She makes him lie down on his back. Raquel kisses with her whole body, her curious hands touching him everywhere, and Sergio is suddenly curious too. She presses gentle, sweet kisses on his neck, pulling his shirt over his torso and trying to get rid of it. He helps her do it, calmly, both of them laughing when his glasses get stuck on top of his head. Sergio throws the piece of clothing somewhere on the floor. Raquel carefully places his glasses over the bedside table.

Sitting down on his lap, Raquel confidently takes off her own shirt. Her long hair falls down on her shoulders, covering her breasts. 

Sergio’s heart skips a beat. His hands move from her waist to her stomach, slowly. He smiles as he watches all the hair on her body stand on end.

_So she gets goosebumps, too._

Suddenly, they invert positions. Sergio hovers above her, their faces inches apart. He takes the hair out of her face and moves it away from her shoulders, exposing the laces of her white bra. Running one finger over it, hypnotized, he kisses the faint birthmark he finds just above the underwear.

Raquel shivers, grabbing a fistful of hair, keeping Sergio there.

He can’t stop touching. Seeing her reactions makes him want to keep going, his confidence suddenly boosting. But mostly, he wants to explore every piece of her — to touch every inch of skin he can reach, to feel her against his fingertips.

“It’s a front-opener,” she murmurs. Sergio realizes she means the bra. He smiles, kissing the space between her breasts, and opens the small hook with a click.

Raquel is _beautiful_. It’s not like he didn’t know that before, but now— with her naked front right there, her chest moving up and down due to her ragged breathing,— he doubts if she’s even real.

He observes her. He can’t help it. He can’t help running his fingers over her skin just to prove how it feels like, just to learn her reactions and hear her quiet moans. If Sergio had the chance, he’d confine those noises in a bottle and keep them there, secretly stored.

He kisses one nipple. Then, when Raquel arches her back and grips his hair more tightly, he takes it between his lips— gently, carefully sucking on it.

The _sounds_ she makes— _ugh_ —

Slowly, he lets go. Then, kissing the path of her neck to her jaw and the corner of her lips, Sergio pauses. Raquel moves his hair out of his face, and he turns his head to kiss her palm.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

“I don’t believe you,” Raquel giggles.

“I mean it. You- you know that.”

Raquel pulls him down, making his crotch press against her. Sergio sighs. The feel of her naked front against his makes him groan.

“You could have fooled me,” she whispers jokingly. Then, her tone more serious, she says: “Don’t be nervous. This is already perfect.”

“I want it to be,” he admits, cupping the hand she has on his face, pressing their foreheads together.

Raquel smiles knowingly. With a swift movement, she captures his lips again, kissing him tenderly, unhurriedly. They exchange deep, slow kisses until Sergio fully relaxes against her. Raquel kisses his neck, making him gasp, and reaches for his pants; he keeps his eyes firm on hers, breathing heavily, helping her out of her own pants too.

A current of cold air comes from the small crack on the window, making Sergio shiver. It makes the curtains move, changing the light that’s illuminating Raquel’s face. She runs her hands up his back.

“Are you cold?”

He shakes his head, wrinkling his nose and touching it against hers. “Just a little.”

“Do you need a blanket?”

“No,” he murmurs, kissing the skin under her eye. “I want to see you.”

Raquel gleams, radiating, and kisses him so profoundly Sergio feels dizzy. She inverts their positions again, and Sergio is relieved she’s now on top— this way, he can touch and look and _see_ all of her without having to take control, which— which he apparently did for a few minutes there, but grew too nervous to continue.

Raquel moves her lips from his neck to his collarbones, pressing wet, provocative kisses all the way down his chest and stomach. When she reaches his crotch, closing her hot lips over his still-clothed erection, Sergio gasps. It’s— it’s nothing like he imagined, and he urgently, _desperately_ craves for more.

With both hands, Raquel slips off his underwear. He feels exposed all of a sudden, but— promptly, the feeling goes away, because Raquel— Raquel takes him into her mouth in one swift move, making him grab her hair with one hand and the sheet with the other.

She languidly bobs her head up and down, gracefully showing him exactly how _magnificent_ this kind of intimacy can feel, — practically taking him over the edge in a matter of seconds.

Sergio closes his eyes, trying to concentrate — trying not to make this end prematurely. He can’t stop looking, though— can’t help taking the hair out of the way so he can _see—_ and that might be the most fascinating sight he has ever encountered, yes.

She moves so methodically, one hand moving around him at the same pace as her mouth, up and down, over and over. Sergio shivers when her free hand grabs his thigh.

And then Raquel takes _all_ of him inside her mouth, and he has to pull out.

“Wait,” he laughs nervously, touching her face with one hand. Raquel rests her cheek on his leg, her hair tousled and lips glistening. He has to remember to breathe. “Can you come here?”

Raquel complies instantly, reaching him in a second. She straddles him, the thin layer of her underwear brushing Sergio’s erection. She kisses him once, and whispers: “Did it feel good?”

“Are you kidding me?” They both laugh.

“I’m glad,” Raquel smiles, moving a hand down his chest until she reaches him once again. Skillfully, she wraps her fingers around his erection, making Sergio surge up and crash their lips together. She laughs when they separate, then murmurs: “I suppose you don’t have a condom here?”

“Hm, actually—” he coughs. “At the bedside table.”

Raquel sends him a surprised look.

“It’s Andrés,” he rushes to explain. “He left some there two weeks ago, on my birthday. I don’t know what he thought...”

Raquel opens the drawer, taking one package out. She laughs, unashamedly, and opens it with her teeth. Then, without even trying to be seductive, she bends down and whispers on his ear: “I never thought I’d say this, but I fucking _love_ your brother.”

Sergio laughs, completely taken off guard, then looks down at their linked bodies and realizes she’s still in her underwear. He takes it off rapidly, not even thinking about his actions anymore, and surges up to bite her bottom lip as she slides the condom down his length. Raquel moans as he releases her lip after keeping it between his teeth for a few seconds— then brings two hands to his face and starts caressing it, as if wishing she could freeze time.

“You’re my best friend,” she says, moving her hips so he’s positioned right at her entrance. “You know that, right?”

“Raquel-” he breathes out, unable to _think_. He loves her, he _loves_ her so much he doesn’t know how to keep it all inside. He’s about to admit it out loud, his filter long gone. “I—”

Then, abruptly, he stops. In fact, the whole world does. Raquel — slowly, agonizingly so, — slides down on him, both of her hands gripping his shoulder, their open mouths touching. He doesn’t even make any sounds — he’s completely _struck_ by her, absolutely astonished, and all he does is stare and touch and bring her _closer_. The closest he can. Their bodies are so pressed together that Sergio has know idea how Raquel can move, but still, she does— beautifully, _unbelievably_ ,— she starts moving her hips, taking all of him inside her. Again and again.

There is no air; Sergio cannot _breathe_.

He starts thrusting his hips, meeting her movements. Raquel’s hair sticks to her forehead, and Sergio knows he must be a mess— and yet, all he can do is continue.

Raquel inhales, and he feels her nails sink on the skin of his waist. She breathes against his mouth, eyes fixed on his, and Sergio unconsciously moves his hands down her ass. That, surprisingly, seems to do it for her, because then she increases the pace, moaning just a tiny bit louder, making him throb inside her.

“You’re— _surreal_ ,” Sergio finds himself admitting, and when Raquel laughs, he can feel her warm breath touch his face, and— _how can you make a moment last forever?_

If Sergio closed his eyes, he is sure he would see fireworks. But he can’t bring himself to do it, because if he closes his eyes he won’t be able to _see_ , and all he wants to do right now is see her. He wants to remember every second. He wants to keep this moment in a separate place on his mind — a place where memories don’t get blurry, where he could return later and relieve every single second.

He curses himself for not being capable of doing such a thing. Curses his disease for depriving him of this much happiness. Curses the universe for showing him what love feels like just to take it away so viciously.

He brings a hand to her sweaty neck, pulling her closer, kissing her with everything he has.

“You-” she starts, moving her hands up his sides, tucking her feet under his legs. “ _You feel so good.”_

And that— that is it. He can’t resist her like this, not when she’s _dirty talking against his mouth,_ so he grips her waist and tries to warn her, but— but Raquel starts moving faster when she realizes he’s close, bringing one hand to their middle and touching herself right where it probably feels best for her and— Sergio— of _course_ — _explodes_.

She cries out two seconds after he spills inside her, both of them shaking and breathing together, until Raquel collapses on top of him.

They stay like that for a few minutes — breathless, exhausted, and connected in a way Sergio could never have imagined.

He slowly runs his hand over her back, and his fingers get lost inside her hair.

She moves her head and looks up. Their tired, shining eyes meet; Raquel has a little bit of makeup on her left cheek, and her hair is all over the place. She has never looked so beautiful.

She smiles. “I think you lied to me.”

“What?” Sergio looks at her seriously.

“There is _no way_ this was your first time.”

He throws his head back, laughing joyfully.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥️♥️♥️
> 
> (Notes at the end: spoiler alert! Don’t read if you haven’t read the chapter yet! <3)

**Madrid, 2017. Raquel’s house.**

Raquel manages to run back home to take a quick shower before going to pick up the kids at the sleepover. She knows she won’t get any sleep at all tonight, but—

It’s worth it. 

She starts undressing, dying for a hot shower, and turns on the TV. She’s undoing the bun she had put her hair in when she sees it.

Fifteen hostages have apparently escaped the Royal Mint. She jumps, running towards her purse to get her phone. But that’s when the news change.

There was an accident. Ángel was in an accident.

Her heart stops, and she freezes in the middle of her room.

***

**Madrid, 2017. Andrés’ studio.**

Sergio stays up for the rest of night.

And, as heartless as it may sound, it’s not because of the hostages who escaped. It’s not because of Ángel’s accident or the fact that the heist seems to be falling apart.

It’s _her_.

None of that was planned. _None_.

He knew Raquel would be the Inspector in charge, and as nervous as that made him, he had decided that it was an advantage. But that’s not what he anticipated, no. Not at all.

The plan was something else entirely.

He would meet her at Hanói. They would talk— they’re lifelong friends, of course they would talk. He would try to start a conversation about the heist. He would try to get all the information that he could. Then, he would tell her he was going back to Canada, and _that was it._

But as soon as he saw her, his mind was _mush_.

It’s ridiculous. In fact, it’s pathetic. They didn’t even talk about the heist, not even once. Apparently, Sergio is doomed to turning into a brainless, irresponsible 18-year-old when he’s around her. For fucking eternity.

It’s absurd. And _wrong_. And he shouldn’t have done this to her.

And yet, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t see her again.

* * *

**Toronto, 1997. Sergio’s place.**

One year after moving, Sergio finally feels used to his new life.

Toronto is cold, but beautiful, and Canadians are probably the nicest people on the planet. (The stereotype is true). He has adapted well to the new treatment and all the different medicine he has to take. He only had one year left of school when he arrived, but he truly enjoyed it — the education in Canada is wonderful, and he was surprised to find that a few of his classmates spoke perfect Spanish. Now school is done, and he has already started University. At 20 years-old, Sergio never thought his life would be so different.

When he gets home, his dad is cooking and talking to Andrés on the phone. His older brother decided to stay in Madrid, too stubborn to listen to his father and come with them to North America. “ _I don’t care how good that country is. This is my home,_ ” he kept repeating.

Sergio doesn’t question it when he ends up moving to Italy anyway.

His waves to his dad, mouthing ‘ _do you need help?_ ’ as he closes the door. Relieved when he shakes his head negatively, Sergio runs to turn on his computer.

The internet takes a few minutes to connect, but he’s glad that now they don’t need to turn off the telephone line when they need to use it. Technology is great.

He opens his e-mail, smiling broadly when he sees the new message from Raquel.

_Dear Sergio,_

_It’s so good to hear from you. I love how fast we can communicate now! International calls are expensive, and letters take forever. But this is nice. I guess it’s the 21st century coming at us a few years early._

_You seem excited about your university, and that makes me happy. I’m still waiting for a few answers, but I’ll let you know what I decide to do. :)_

_Madrid is the same as always. I don’t have much to tell, except that I miss you and not having you around is still weird. Although — I do have a piece of good news, but I’d like to tell you over the phone. Can you call me when you read this?_

_Love,  
_ _Raquel._

Sergio runs to the kitchen and rudely takes the phone from his dad’s hand.

“Hey!” He points at him with a cooking spoon.

“Hey, _hermanito,_ ” Sergio says on the line. “I love you, but you have to hang up now.”

“Sergio—”

He ignores it and ends the call. His dad looks at him disapprovingly.

“I hope this is for a good reason, young man.”

“I’m pretty sure Raquel wants to tell me she can come visit, so—”

He laughs, wiping his dirty hand on a towel. “Okay, go.”

Sergio runs to his bedroom, tripping on the way there and almost falling face-first on the ground. He jumps on his bed and dials her number — which he already knows by heart since he was 10.

Raquel answers on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Tell me.” He says, facing his now starless roof.

She laughs on the other side of the line. “Well, hello to you too.”

Her voice, even muffled by the long-distance call, makes him feel like he’s being transported back home.

“Tell meee!”

“Jesus, alright, alright,” she pauses. “Aren’t you going to tell me how you’re doing first?”

“Raquel!” He exclaims, frustrated. She laughs loudly.

“Okay, calm down, it was a joke,” she replies. “So... I think... I might or might not be able to visit you this Christmas.”

“For real?” He sits on his bed, heart on his throat. “You’re not kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding,” she laughs fondly. “For real. I just wanted to tell you first before I bought the tickets.”

“Yes, yes!” He jumps excitedly. “How long can you stay?”

“Until the New Years,” she sighs. “I wish it could be longer, but-“

“No, it’s perfect. You’re gonna freeze, but-“

_But I can warm you up,_ he stops himself from saying.

It’s— different, now. Their friendship. Kind of.

Now Sergio watches his word more. Things that before sounded innocent now feels flirtatious and full of meaning, no matter how naturally they come out of his lips.

“I’ll come prepared,” she offers.

“I can’t wait,” Sergio admits, his voice deeper than he intended. “Oh-”

_“Ian!”_ Raquel exclaims all of a sudden. The sounds are muffled and distant, but Sergio hears laughter and the sound of something dropping on the floor. “ _Look what you did, oh my god—”_

And then, very far, he hears a loud, quick— kissing sound.

His heart shatters.

_“Okay, later, I’m talking to Sergio. Yeah, yeah, just leave it there, I’ll fix it later. Thank you.”_

She comes back. “Sorry, that— that was Ian. You were saying?”

Trying his hardest to pretend not to be affected by the fact that Raquel is apparently with someone and didn’t even mention it to him, Sergio clears his throat. “I- I don’t remember.”

“Ah shit, I hate when you do that,” she laughs, referring to Sergio’s habit of constantly forgetting things he’s about to say. _(What can I do? There’s a lot in my mind, sometimes the thoughts get scrambled.)_

He laughs. Then... Pauses. And decides to ask.

“Are you and Ian together?”

Raquel doesn’t respond for a few long seconds.

“Sergio...”

“It’s okay,” he says, his voice soft. “Are you?”

“Y-yes.” Raquel exhales. “I think so, yeah.”

“That’s good,” Sergio says sincerely. His heart is broken, yes, but he does mean it. It’s not like he was actually expecting that Raquel would wait for him, anyway. “He’s a good guy.”

“He is,” Raquel agrees.

A long, sad silence follows.

* * *

**Madrid, 2017. Police tent.**

It was a hard day.

Listening to Mari Carmen’s words were probably the harshest of it all. Seeing how sure she was that Ángel tried to kill himself, and— and how convinced she was that Raquel had something to do with it...

It made her feel like the worst friend in the world.

She doubted him. He thought that Ángel, the same honest guy she has worked with for _years_ , was somehow a liar. A traitor.

_How could she?_

Raquel sits at the tent with tearful eyes. Then, she does the only thing she can possibly think of doing at that moment.

She calls Sergio.

***

He can’t pick her up. So Raquel goes home.

***

She feels numb.

The tranquilizer they gave her is making her sleepy, and everything around her is cloudy.

And maybe that’s why, when she opens the door, it takes her a few seconds to see him.

Sergio and her mom are sitting on the sofa, drinking tea and laughing together, as if it’s the most usual thing in the world and not completely _absurd_.

“Sergio?” She murmurs sleepily. “What are you doing here?”

He turns his head, finally seeing her. A big, bright smile paints his face. He stands up and walks towards her.

“That was why I couldn’t pick you up,” he fixes his classes a little bit nervously. “I needed to come visit my old friend Mariví.”

Raquel giggles, completely surprised and taken off guard. She looks at Sergio’s timid face and can’t help throwing her arms around his middle and enveloping him in a tight, familiar hug.

It’s as if all the tension of the day starts to drift off at that exact moment.

Then, Mariví appears right in front of them.

“He told me, you know,” she says, her tone happy. “That you made love.”

She looks at Sergio in surprise and pure disbelief.

He shakes his head, laughing, and rushes to explain: “I didn’t say anything. She might have figured it out herself.”

Raquel laughs, reaching for Sergio’s face with one hand. “Let’s go eat dinner.”

***

After eating her mom’s delicious soup, they move to Raquel’s room. She needs to lie down for a moment, her head still thumping a bit — and Sergio lies next to her.

They both lie on their sides, facing each other.

“How are you?” He asks, a sad smile on his face.

“Tired,” she covers herself with a blanket. “Honestly, those guys could burn that place down for all I care. As long as those poor hostages don’t get hurt and— and as long as Ángel wakes up, I don’t care. Make all the money they want, the state probably deserves it. I know for a fact that the _police_ does. I just don’t want more people getting hurt.”

Sergio looks at her with wide eyes. She ignores it, but knows how surprised he is.

“I agree,” is all he says. And then, whispering as if he was telling a secret, he reveals: “Hey. I have an idea.”

“What?” She yawns, eyes almost closing.

“Do you want to watch the Lion King?”

_“Ohmygodyes.”_

***

That night, they don’t even kiss.

Well, to be fair, they do — once.

When Sergio found out about the messages Ángel left on Raquel’s home phone, he had to pay an improvised visit to Mariví. Knowing that the poor old woman was struggling with forgetfulness and confusion, all he did was ask her to use her phone. In 10 seconds, he solved the problem, deleting all the messages without even listening to them.

Then Raquel arrived, and they put on the Lion King, and suddenly it’s as if Sergio is eighteen again.

She falls asleep on his chest, right after pressing one — _one_ , — small, sweet peck on his lips.

She looks so peaceful like this. So very different than the force of nature she really is. Raquel seems to only grow stronger and stronger — every time he sees her, no matter how long it’s been, it’s like she is always tougher, and Sergio can’t help thinking that the reason why it happens is because life has been cruel to her.

Ever since they talked in Hanói, images of Raquel and Alberto keep creeping in his head. Real images — things that he saw, pictures of the two together, happy, pictures of their wedding and of trips Sergio knows they went to. But also images he can’t help imagining — images of Alberto _hitting_ her, and—

He holds her tighter, wishing he could have been there. Wishing that, instead of plotting the biggest heist in history for the last twenty years of his life, he could have moved back to Spain and protected Raquel from going through this hell.

He wishes he could go back in time and buy the damn plane tickets. He wishes he had attended her wedding — because maybe, _maybe_ , if he had... _Perhaps_ he could have stopped it.

He lets his nose sink in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent. She smells like shampoo and cigarettes, and Sergio wonders when she started smoking.

Pressing a soft kiss against the top of her head, he closes his eyes and prays. He prays to fall asleep, too — just so he can wake up next to her. _Please, God, give me this one thing— just one more time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, that’s why I didn’t answer some of your comments where you asked about whether or not Sergio was still the Professor in this fic. I didn’t want to spoil it! 
> 
> But now you know! Hahaha and I hope you guys are still enjoying it. 
> 
> And please, do let me know what you think so far! Comments and feedback are always welcome ♥️


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!
> 
> I didn’t have time to re-read this again to see if there are any mistakes, so please forgive me if you spot anything! 
> 
> I hope you’re still enjoying this story! ♥️

**Madrid, 2017. Raquel’s house.**

Sergio wakes up a bit dizzy. Unsure of where he is, he opens his eyes slowly.

His heart swells when he sees her.

For some reason, the movie started playing again. Simba is about to meet Timon and Pumbaa when Raquel shifts on the mattress, mumbling a little.

Sergio grins. Taking a hand to her sleepy face, he moves a bit of hair out of her eyes and runs the pad of his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. He notices she’s cold, and moves the blanket up her shoulders.

Lazily, Raquel opens one sleepy eye. When she sees him, she opens the other one and smiles shyly, hiding her face in the pillow.

“How long have you been staring?”

Sergio laughs. There’s no point in pretending he wasn’t. “Only a few minutes.”

“How long did I sleep?”

Sergio moves a hand to the back of her neck, caressing her hair. She closes her eyes again, welcoming the touch.

“ _Relax_ ,” he murmurs playfully, making her laugh, and checks the clock at the bedside table. “Three hours.”

“Damn,” she complains, but doesn’t open her eyes. Instead, she moves closer, tucking one cold foot under Sergio’s leg and bringing one hand to his face.

Sergio, in turn, moves his hand down her neck until he reaches her waist, pulling her against him and bringing their bodies together. Their noses meet, and he can feel her heart beating against his.

“Are you feeling better?” He asks in a low, deep voice.

“Mmm-hm,” she whispers back, her hand sneaking under his shirt. “Thanks to you.”

Sergio doesn’t know how to answer, so instead of using words, he smiles. Raquel grins back, and her relaxed expression makes Sergio’s stomach tingle. Unable to resist it, he moves his head, caressing her nose with his own— and when she closes her eyes, her hands moving up and down his side, Sergio tilts his neck just enough to capture her lips between his.

He could _die_ of happiness — and he has never felt like this before, not even when Raquel kissed him at that party all those years ago. Sergio can’t help grinning, making the kiss sloppy and messy, and his entire world stops spinning when Raquel smiles against his lips too.

“These must be uncomfortable,” he murmurs, his fingers playing with the edges of her pants. He stops right at the button, waiting for her reaction.

She bites her bottom lip and looks at him with so much hunger that Sergio has to close his eyes and remind himself how to breathe.

“They really are,” she teases back, gasping lowly when he pops the button open.

They keep their gazes locked as Sergio slides his hand down her tight pants, squeezing his fingers in. His heartbeat fastens when he feels the humidity over her underwear, and then he— he takes it as an invitation to pull it to the side and touch her with one finger, just to find _exactly how wet_ she is—

Raquel spreads her knees, resting one leg over Sergio’s. She holds his neck firmly, as if to keep herself grounded, and when Sergio finds just the _right_ spot— she moans against his mouth and he watches, mesmerized, as she dissolves under his touch.

Raquel freezes in anticipation when she realizes Sergio is about to introduce one finger, and then—

Her cellphone rings.

_Ah, shit_.

They both exhale together, laughing lazily.

“I should be heading to work,” she announces regretfully. “And I should probably get that.”

That ring should have brought Sergio back to reality. If they’re calling, it’s very likely that it’s urgent, which means that something must be going on at the Royal Mint.

And yet—

“You’re _killing_ me, Raquel,” he mumbles, moving his fingers against her just for a few seconds more, bringing her closer so she can feel his erection against her leg.

She groans, clearly frustrated. “ _You_ are killing _me.”_

They kiss again. Profoundly, sensually— her lips moving against his with desire and _want_.

“Hold that thought,” she practically _purrs_ , moving away from him and reaching for her phone.

* * *

**Toronto, 1997. Airport.**

Sergio is agitated. He arrived at the airport two hours in advance — and the only reason why he didn’t come even earlier was because his dad didn’t let him.

He faces the ‘ _arrivals_ ’ board with his heart on his throat. He didn’t know if he should bring anything as a welcome gift, so he brought chocolate — the ones you can melt into _hot_ chocolate, considering how much Raquel loves those and how severe the winter in Toronto is this year.

Sergio hopes she’ll like it — but most of all, he hopes their friendship is still the same. He’s still trying to accept the fact that, after one year apart, he still thinks about that night every single day; he questions whether he’ll ever stop having romantic feelings for her. But for now, all he wants is to see his friend.

He spots her the second she steps out of the gate. Raquel, in turn, takes a few minutes to see him. Holding the strap of her backpack, she looks around curiously, her eyes searching. And when she finally sees him—

A huge, bright smile paints her face, and she _runs_. Sergio doesn’t have the strength to do the same — his legs seem to freeze all of a sudden, and he simply cannot _move_ , — but Raquel reaches him in a few large steps, quick to throw her arms around his neck and _jump_ on him — literally. He tries to hold his balance, the box of chocolate falling on the floor, her legs enveloping his waist and her face sinking against his neck.

Sergio smiles, the scent of her hair invading his senses, and holds her just as tightly.

He’s home.

***

Sergio shows Raquel the entire city. She keeps teasing him about his winter clothes — “ _you look so cute with these hats!_ ” — and he keeps giving her lectures about how she should be wearing more layers. Raquel dismisses it all day, until the evening comes and she starts to freeze, her chin quivering and her lips turning blue.

Sergio buys her a hat and forces her to put it on. After giving her two hand and feet warmers and helping her to put them inside her gloves and socks, he is finally satisfied.

“Do you understand what I mean now?” He asks seriously. She nods, pouting like a little kid. “Tomorrow we’re going to Blue Mountain, and it’s going to be even colder. So _wear more layers!_ ”

“Alright, alright, I learned my lesson. _Jesus_.”

Sergio laughs, shaking his head fondly. “Okay, let’s go have some hot chocolate then.”

“Yessss!”

***

Blue Mountain is one of the most beautiful places Raquel has ever visited in her entire life.

It’s two hours away from Toronto, so Sergio’s dad kindly borrows them the car. It’s a nice, cozy road-trip, and Raquel wishes the Christmas break could last forever.

Sergio tries to teach her how to snowboard, but apparently she’s a complete disaster. After quite a few terrible falls, they end up using the snowboard to sit on and slide down the snow, and Sergio decides that it is even more fun than _actually_ snowboarding.

By the end of the day, they’re so tired from going up and down the snowy hill that they both collapse over the ice, laughing together.

Sergio starts making a snow angel, arms moving up and down repeatedly. Raquel simply observes.

He seems happy. That’s all she hoped for.

“What?” He asks a bit self-consciously, feeling her gaze.

“Nothing,” she shakes her head, resting her temple in one hand, her elbow sinking in the snow. “I just missed you.”

He coughs. “W-well, I missed you too.”

“You know,” she starts, her tone suddenly serious. “I will study tourism in Madrid, and when I graduate, I’ll save enough money to build my own hotel. I love the snow, but— but my hotel will be at the most _beautiful_ beach. And my mom will be there, and— you too. I’m taking you with me.”

Sergio laughs, wiping snowflakes out of his jacket.

“I’m serious!” She exclaims. “Wouldn’t you like to live by the sea? To always have tanned skin...”

He takes his glasses off to clean his wet lenses. It is impossible not to picture Raquel in this scenario, the sun above her, making her hair shine and her skin glisten. “The Philippines has tons of beautiful beaches,” he offers.

“Yes! Oh my god, could you imagine?”

“Okay, wait,” Sergio moves to grab his backpack, almost left forgotten in the snow. He unzips it and takes a tiny book off, clutching it in one hand. After fiddling with the pages for a few seconds, he seems to find what he wants. “A-hah! Here. Close your eyes.”

“What?” Raquel laughs.

“This is a map of the Philippines. Close your eyes and point anywhere here.”

“Why do you have a book with a map of the Philippines in your backpack?”

Sergio sends her a blank look. “You talk like you don’t know me.”

“You have a point.” She smiles. “Okay. I’m closing my eyes.”

He holds the book in her direction. “I’ll tell you if you point to a random spot in the ocean.”

Raquel laughs. And then, with her eyes closed, she moves her finger over the page and stops when it feels right. She opens her eyes.

“Palawan,” she says in a soft voice.

“ _Palawan_ ,” he repeats. “That’s good.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Look,” he flips a few pages of the book and shows her a beautiful picture of a blue beach surrounded by mountains and beautiful green trees. She sighs dreamily.

“Wow,” Raquel breathes out.

“I would _happily_ cross the ocean to live in Palawan with you,” he laughs, making Raquel laugh too.

“Would you now?” She teases, a smirk painting her face.

“Yes.”

He doesn’t explain how serious he is, but hopes Raquel can see it in his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO happy with your reactions, you guys have no idea. Thank you so much for reading and for talking to me — both here and on Twitter. You’re amazing. ♥️

**Toledo, 2017.**

It was Suárez who called. They found the residence in Toledo, and they wanted Raquel there.

Because of the tranquilizers she was given, she doesn’t feel well to drive. So Sergio does it instead, knowing he is probably the biggest son of a bitch in the universe for using her like this. He feels guilty, and nervous, and then, as if the whole situation wasn’t complicated enough— there is the cherry on top. Alberto.

Sergio won’t lie — he is not a violent man. He hates conflict, although he seems to find himself wrapped up in them more times than he can count. But in that moment, he cannot begin to explain how glad he feels for having an excuse to knock that bastard out.

There are only two people in the world he has ever felt the urge to hit. First, his father’s murderer. And now Alberto.

And yes, he also does it because he needs to replace the DNA samples. Of course. But combining business with pleasure has never felt so good.

* * *

**Madrid, 2017. Raquel’s house.**

That day, Sergio ends up in a police station, handcuffed and, well, absolutely terrified.

When Raquel gets there, he doesn’t even have to say much. She fixes it all in five minutes.

Sergio tries not to feel like a monster. These lies have gone completely out of control, but now— _he can’t stop._ He can’t. Because if he stops now, he’ll have to either a) disappear; or b) tell her the truth. In both options, he loses her. In the second, he loses her _and_ ruins the plan. And he cannot do that.

So he allows himself to have this, just for a little bit more.

Raquel will probably figure it out anyway, sooner or later. He knows she will. But for now— for now, he’ll cherish this for as long as he can. He has deprived himself of her for far too long — first because of his disease, then because of his plan. But life decided to cross their paths anyway, _again_ , and — and maybe the universe is trying to tell him something, right?

Even when he was younger, Sergio has never believed in anything other than logic, reason and science. And yet here he is, in Raquel’s bed, against all odds. Wondering if it was fate who brought him here.

She comes back from the kitchen with a bottle of red wine and two empty glasses. She sits on the empty space next to him and pours the liquid into the glasses, handing him one. He feels glad to have something to hold between his trembling hands.

“I don’t want to ask why you did this,” she begins, then takes a sip of wine. “Because you know I don’t need protection. I never did. So I’m just gonna say— well, thank you for doing what I should have done myself a long time ago.”

“Raquel, I—” he fixes his glasses. Then swallows. “I know that this is none of my business. And I know you’re perfectly capable of defending yourself—”

“Sergio,” she interrupts, her gaze serious. “It’s okay.”

He looks down, embarrassed, and plays with the rim of the glass. It’s impossible not to feel Raquel’s intense gaze— so he turns his neck, eyes meeting hers.

Her hair is different today. The way it falls over her face somehow makes her look younger. He takes his free hand to her cheek, brushing the back of his fingers lightly against her skin, then places a lock behind her ear.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Raquel admits, emotion visible in her eyes. “You- you don’t know how happy it makes me.”

Sergio swallows the lump in his throat, eyes moving down to look at her lips. He can’t help it. She sends him a weak smile, then does the same, looking fixedly to his mouth too.

“You—” he stops. “ _You_ make me happy.”

Raquel’s eyes _glow_. Sergio gets lost in them for a while, and they both start to slowly, unhurriedly move towards each other, lips meeting somewhere in the middle. They’re both breathing heavily, and the moment is filled with emotion and affection, and— and the kiss inevitably grows more intense, Raquel’s mouth opening hungrily under his.

They separate for air and, urgently, get rid of the wine glasses, both of them putting it in the bedside tables. Then they meet again, lips crashing together in a frantic, eager kiss, — and Raquel moves toward him until she’s sitting on his lap, both hands on his beard.

“I told you to hold that thought,” she murmurs sensually, making the hair on Sergio’s arms stand on end. “Now finish what you started, yeah?”

Sergio laughs, unable to resist her, and moves both hands down her ass while moving his neck up to bite the soft skin of her shoulder. Raquel shivers — and Sergio dwells on the thought that he _knows_ how to do that, he _knows_ what makes her moan and tremble, and it’s— _unbelievable_.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is deep and rough. Raquel wets her lips, hands moving down Sergio’s collarbones to start popping the buttons of his shirt open, one by one.

“Of course,” she replies, grabbing the edges of the shirt and pulling the fabric up and over his head.

Sergio presses a warm kiss on her chin, moving his hands up to remove her blouse too.

“I still think about that night,” he admits in a whisper. He’s glad the room is getting dark — it’s so much easier to talk about some things hidden from the light. He can hear his own heart beating on his ears, but he continues anyway. “When we were eighteen. You- you were _stunning_ , just like you are now. You took my breath away. And you never stopped.”

Raquel pops her bra open and throws it on the mattress. She comes closer, bringing their bodies together— as if she needs to feel his skin against hers, _now_. Her voice is hoarse when she speaks. “Don’t make me cry.”

Sergio giggles. “It’s true.”

He grabs her waist and pushes her down, and they both groan when Raquel sits _right_ on his erection, the friction making her roll her eyes.

“I couldn’t believe how lucky I was... How lucky I _am.”_

“Keep doing that and you’ll get _really_ lucky,” Raquel jokes, and Sergio’s heart expands with the overwhelming affection he feels for her— and— he realizes with a gasp— _and he can only call it love._

He _loves_ her. With everything that he is, with all of his heart. He loves Raquel, and in that moment, when she smiles at him so brightly and touches him _so gently_ , he knows he will never feel this way again.

“You’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me,” he whispers as she kisses a path down his neck and shoulder, and then— and then she surges up, crashing their lips together, their tongues meeting with desperation, and—

And Sergio _succumbs_. Completely, unashamedly. He hands his heart over, unafraid— and lets Raquel guide him over the edge.

The night surrounds them and Sergio welcomes the darkness, his eyes adjusting to it in a few minutes and allowing him to watch her, albeit less clearly now.

He wishes the night could last forever.

* * *

**Blue Mountain** , **1997.**

They stay in the coziest, cutest little cabin. They even have a fireplace, and Raquel starts working on lighting it up the second they step in.

“I love this,” she announces. Sergio laughs.

“Alright, do you want anything? The restaurants and shops will close soon.”

“Can we maybe buy some soup for dinner? Oh, and some tea! For later.”

“Sure, yeah. Should I go grab some while you figure out this fireplace?”

“Actually—” Raquel pauses, throwing some wood inside it and sighing. “Can you try instead? Because I’m failing terribly.”

Sergio giggles, moving to take her place.

“Of course. You know where to go for soup, right? It’s the same restaurant—”

“Yep, got it. Thank you.”

***

When Raquel comes back, two bowls full of soup in hand (plus five packs of tea), she quickly walks towards where Sergio is sitting — on the floor, right in front of the now lit fireplace. He has a warm blanket over his shoulder and a book between his hands.

“Jesus, it’s _freezing_.”

“And apparently snowing again?” Sergio giggles, pointing to her clothes and closing the book.

“Well, obviously.”

Raquel puts the bowls of soup down and gets rid of her wet jacket, grabbing a blanket on the bed behind them and wrapping it around her. She moves closer to Sergio — probably for warmth.

“Here,” he helps her with the blanket and crawls closer to the fire.

“Thank you.”

He faces her with a small smile, biting his lip when he notices the tiny snowflakes on her eyelashes and the tip of her nose. It’s— weirdly intimate, and without even realizing what he’s doing, he— he brings his hand to her cold face, wiping away some of it. Raquel closes her eyes.

“You have snow on your eyelashes,” he murmurs. Raquel gapes at him, her mouth hanging, pupils dark and huge when her eyes finally open. He swallows nervously.

Sergio doesn’t even think. He acts purely out of instinct when he starts closing the space between them, moving his head towards her.

But Raquel, for the first time, pulls away.

His heart shatters into pieces. He looks down, mortified, feeling rejected and ashamed of his own stupidity—

But then she is holding his face with both hands, making him look up again.

“Look at me,” she whispers with a broken voice. “Please.”

He obeys.

“We decided to stay friends. I— I’m with someone else now.”

“I know,” Sergio holds the tears in, his eyes burning. “I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t thinking, I- I’m sorry.”

And that’s when, amazingly, Raquel touches her forehead against his, closing her eyes and swallowing loudly. In a quiet, sad whisper, she says:

“You’ll always be my most _wonderful_ memory.” She runs her thumb up and down his cheeks. “And you’ll always be my best friend.”

The fire creaks in front of them, and Sergio feels Raquel’s cold hands start to warm up against his face. One single, lonely tear runs down his cheek. She wipes it away.

“I don’t think this will ever go away, Raquel,” he admits, so quiet— so incredibly heartbroken.

She doesn’t answer.

Instead, she wraps her arms around his shoulder and hugs him tightly, her face against his neck. It takes him a while, but he promptly hugs her back, his hands bringing her even closer.

They stay like that for what feels like hours.

Luckily, the soup is still warm when they finally start eating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the past angst... 💔


	9. Chapter 9

**Madrid, 2017. Raquel’s house.**

Sergio plays with the freckles on Raquel’s breasts, joining up the small dots with his forefinger. He smiles as he watches the hair on her arm, resting lazily over her own stomach, instantly rise.

It feels like a dream. He doesn’t want to wake up.

He looks at the clock and, quietly, starts pressing small kisses on her neck, slowly waking her up.

“Rise and shine...” he whispers lowly against her ear, taking the opportunity to lightly bite on her earlobe.

Raquel groans, shifting under his touches, turning on her side and hooking one leg between his. Sergio finds her hand and interlaces his fingers with hers, bringing their linked hands to his lips to press a kiss there.

“It’s getting late,” he announces. “And you have to work.”

“Ugh,” she finally opens her eyes, lazily meeting his. “Why can’t nights be longer?”

“I know, right?” Sergio giggles. “But- I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Please,” she breathes out, pressing a warm kiss to his hand in response.

“At Hanói? After you leave work?”

“Actually,” she moves her hand up his back, stopping when she reaches his hair. “Would you mind coming here instead? I need to help Paula with a school assignment, she’s been having trouble with Maths and—”

Sergio interrupts her with a kiss. “Done.”

***

Raquel does everything she can to end this day as quickly as possible.

She wants this heist to be over. She’s _done_ , so done.

Sometimes she wonders what the hell she’s still doing in the police — no matter how good she is at her job, this is definitely not the life she pictured for herself. And maybe being around Sergio is making her aware of that again, after so many years of simply settling down and going on with life, but— that’s not the point.

The point is that she’s done, and she’ll do everything in her power to end all this. Today.

***

The operation fails.

Raquel is exhausted, and she feels incompetent and defeated.

But at least... At least Suárez says that the Science department finally finished the fingerprints tests that should have been done days ago. And one of them — the fingerprint in the button she found in that car — matches a guy with a record. _Some good news, at least._

Before she turns to leave, her colleague hands her a small folder with the results and the information on the guy.

“His name is Andrés Fonollosa,” Suárez says, crossing his arms. “He was previously arrested for—“

But then— then, Raquel stops listening. Because yes, he may have changed his last name, but she would recognize that face anywhere. He looks older, of course, but— but that’s _Andrés_. It’s him.

What the actual _fuck_?!

Her heart stops, and her whole body freezes. And then, fire creeps up her spine.

“I have to go,” she throws the folder in a desk and storms off, _completely_ _furious_.

* * *

**Toronto, 1997. Sergio’s house.**

A few days after Raquel leaves, Sergio’s dad finally tells him the truth. About their financial situation, that is.

They both sit down at the kitchen table and his father tells him everything. Yes, he does manage to make enough money to pay for the medicine and the rent. But the hospital bills are piling up, and he can’t pay. There is simply not enough money. The university is not a problem, since Sergio has a fat scholarship, but— apparently, they owe thousands and thousands to the hospital. And they simply don’t have the money.

That’s when everything starts to make sense in Sergio’s head. Because— because that’s why his dad fantasizes so much about robberies. That’s why he watches all those documentaries about real cases.

That’s why he got a gun.

He tried to hide it from Sergio, but he saw it; right on top of his wardrobe, hidden under a big box of old clothes.

Sergio doesn’t mention it — at least, not yet. This is not the time.

What Sergio does is — something else. First, he stands up, tears in his eyes, and hugs his dad. They cry together, and the man seems so, so relieved— that Sergio starts breathing a little bit better after that. And then...

Then, he sits down. He opens a notebook. And helps his dad plan his first heist.

***

They plan a lot of robberies together.

But the biggest one — _making your own money, son, can you picture that?_ — is his favorite idea of all. They plan every single second, think of every single detail, and Sergio keeps it all guarded inside his head.

It’s not like they would ever actually perform something that crazy. But fantasizing about it with his father — especially during those long, interminable nights at the hospital, — becomes one of his favorite things in the world.

It takes his dad a year to grow the courage to actually go for the first plan.

It works.

And it keeps working for another entire year.

Andrés finds out about it. He gets angry for not being included, and then— then he starts performing his own plans in Spain, telling Sergio all about his absurd and careless robberies every time they meet.

_Maybe crime is in our blood, after all_ , he thinks to himself more times than he can count.

And then, in 1999, Sergio’s father is murdered.

He dedicates the rest of his years to avenging his death.

* * *

**Madrid, 2017.**

Raquel gets home in minutes.

He knows Sergio will be there — and she prays, she _prays_ with all her heart that he has no idea what is going on.

She prays, but her gut tells her something different. If Sergio really had no idea why his brother is a robber in the _biggest heist in history_ , then— then why would he lie about being in Madrid? He said he war visiting Andrés, and that was _clearly_ a lie.

And then there’s also the studio. He said it was Andrés’, but—

She shakes her head. With her heart on her throat, feeling betrayed and stupid and so goddamn naive, she opens the door.

Just to stumble exactly upon the scene of Sergio sitting on the table, Paula on his side, looking thoughtfully at her notebook.

“Almost there, _Paulita_ — here you should do this part first, okay?”

“Oh, yeah! I remember.” The little girl starts writing, her pen moving fast. “Three! Right? The answer is three!”

“There you go,” Sergio sends her a proud, happy smile. “Great job, little one.”

It’s impossible not to let her guard down — even if only for a second. The moment warms Raquel’s heart in an indescribable way, and then— then it’s as if it falls to the ground, shattered, because— because Sergio _lied_ to her. He _knows_ something, otherwise—

Paula finally spots Raquel, and stands up immediately to run towards her. “ _Mamá!”_

_“Hola, mi vida.”_ Raquel scotches down, hugging her daughter and kissing the top of her head. “How was your day, hm?”

“I finally understood the exercises! Sergio taught them to me, and it made sense.” She stops herself, bringing a small finger to her chin, looking so thoughtful Raquel has to fight the urge to laugh. “Why did it make sense when _he_ said it, but it doesn’t when my teacher says it?”

At that, Raquel does laugh. “This guy has a talent, _mi amor_.” She kisses her again. “And what do we say when someone helps us?”

Paula looks at him again. “Thank you so much, Sergio!”

“Don’t worry about it, hm?” He bends his knee, lowering down as well, and opens his arms so she can hug him.

Raquel looks away.

“ _Mamá_ , can I play with the iPad? I already finished all my homework.”

“Of course. But only until 9pm, understood?”

“Yes! Thank you.” Paula hugs her again, running up the stairs in five seconds.

They both stand up. Sergio fixes his glasses, smiling and looking to the direction Paula has run into.

“She’s a great kid, you know.”

Under any other circumstances, Raquel would have jumped into the opportunity of bragging about her daughter. She really is amazing, after all.

But not today.

Instead, she takes the folder she’s been clutching in one hand and throws it over the kitchen’s table. A picture of Andrés’ face falls off.

“Can you tell me what the hell your brother is doing inside the Royal Mint?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry. ♥️


	10. Chapter 10

**Madrid, 2017.**

Sergio has been careful. So, so careful.

He has planted the button inside the car, but— but he should have had more time. He made _sure_ that the science department was late, he— he made sure they wouldn’t have the results until it was safe for Raquel to know.

He looks at her.

Raquel’s face is full of anger and doubt, her eyes huge and— _hurt_.

His mind, miraculously, stops.

It’s the first time his thoughts go blank ever since all of this started.

But now, with the love of his life standing right in front of him and _demanding_ answers, Sergio knows— he _knows_ he has no choice.

He has to tell her.

Because he can’t look into her eyes and keep lying. It was hard enough before, but now, now that she knows something is not quite right, he knows he can’t keep it up. Not anymore.

So, he stops. He fixes his glasses, and then meets her terrifying, angry gaze.

He tries to speak, but his voice doesn’t come out.

Raquel lets out a bitter laugh. “So you know.”

“I- I do,” Sergio swallows. He has never felt so nervous in his whole goddamn life. “Raquel, I need to tell you something. The- the truth. But please, please give me a chance to talk—”

She starts walking backwards, looking at him as if he’s a complete stranger. And it _hurts_ , it hurts more than Sergio can fathom, but he needs to do this. He needs to.

“No, no, no,” Raquel shakes her head, tears running furiously down her face. “No, don’t tell me you’re involved in all of this—”

“Raquel, please— please sit down, I—”

“I’m not sitting down. What— it _can’t_ _be_ —”

Sergio sees it in her face. The exact moment where she realizes who he is — the exact moment she realizes that the man she has been talking over the phone for the past days is her lifelong best friend.

And the way she completely _breaks,_ as if something inside her has wrecked, makes Sergio want to scream.

“Raquel—”

“No,” she wipes her tears, still walking backwards, moving away from him. “Say it. You’ll have to say it.”

Sergio closes his eyes. He hadn’t realized he was crying until now. Taking a step closer, trying to make her see that _this is still him, he is still the same person—_ he takes a deep breath and says in a rough, serious voice:

“I’m the Professor.”

Raquel turns her back to him, both of her hands covering her face. She looks up, taking a deep, deep breath. She sniffs two, three times — then turns to him once again, eyes red and swollen and _furious— she looks so furious._

She doesn’t say anything for long, torturous seconds.

And then—

“I need to arrest you.”

“Raquel, no, _listen to me—”_

“How _could_ you?!” She starts, moving towards him now, a finger pointing to his face. And there it is— the anger, the _fury_ Sergio was expecting. “How could you come back here and turn my whole life upside down like this? You’ve been lying to my face all this time so— _so easily_ , oh my God.” She gasps, breathing in, the tears practically choking her. Sergio cries just as heavily.

“No, no—”

“How could you make me believe you still had feelings for me after all this time, only— only to—“ she shakes her head, her voice breaking. “You made _love_ to me. Why- why would you be so cruel?”

“N- no, no, none of that was planned. You have to believe me—”

“Who _are_ you?!” She all but screams. “Who even am I to you?”

“ _Everything_ ,” he breathes out, completely breathless. Raquel seems to be taken aback — she stops for a second, her eyes going from complete outrage to something Sergio knows a bit better. There is so much in her gaze that he wonders how she can express so much with a single look. “Can’t you see? You- you’re everything.”

She looks up again, the tears still insisting to fall. “I don’t want to listen to you.”

“Why?” He steps closer. “Because I’m one of the bad guys? Because I lied?”

There’s fear in her eyes. Sergio wants it to go away, but— he needs to continue.

“You’ve said it yourself. Deep down, you _know_ who is actually bad in this whole story.”

He doesn’t need to say it. He _knows_ she knows. So he steps closer, relief overcoming him when she doesn’t move away.

“My dad couldn’t pay for the hospital bills in Canada,” he begins. “We were broke, I was still sick, and we were indebted. He spent _all_ his days _fantasizing_ about robberies.” Sergio feels the tears fall, making a mess on his face. “To save _me_.”

“So this—”

“Was his idea, yes.” Sergio looks right into Raquel’s eyes. “What would you do?”

“How did he die?” Raquel crosses her arms, as if trying to make herself smaller— her whole face swollen and wet with tears.

“He was shot.” Sergio’s voice breaks. “Repeatedly. In front of a bank.”

Raquel turns her back to him again. She looks up, biting her lip and breathing heavily.

_“Why would you do this?”_ She seems to think out loud, her voice so, so small. Then, she spins over her heels, pointing at him with the same wrath as before. “Do you understand what I have to do here? I have to make a _decision_ now.”

“Raquel—”

“You _know_ I have to arrest you. You know that.” She hugs herself, devastated. “And you also know I can’t.”

“What?”

“I can’t arrest you, Sergio, fuck!” She screams, and then covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to keep her voice down. _“I can’t arrest you.”_

Sergio stands there, arms hanging over his legs. He takes one step towards her, but freezes when she holds up a finger.

“It’s still me, Raquel,” he tries again. “Nothing about that changed. I— _please_ , just look at me! Look me in the eyes and tell me you think I’m a monster.”

He has never seen so much ire in someone. Ever.

The look on Raquel’s face sends shivers down his bones.

“Leave.”

Her voice is strong. Merciless.

He tilts his head, and he is— hopeless, _hopeless_ , utterly destroyed. “Raquel, please...”

“ _Go_. Now.” She doesn’t look at him— but Sergio can still see her eyes. It’s terrifying.

When he doesn’t move, she bumps her fist over the table, making a loud noise. “I said leave, _joder_!”

He holds up his hands. Then— then he tries to meet her eyes again. She has to _see_ — she has to _look him in the eyes and see_ the love he feels for her because— because nothing in his entire life has been more real than that.

But she doesn’t look up. So Sergio walks towards the door slowly. Before he opens it, though, he looks over his shoulder — one last try. One last try before he never sees her again.

Raquel faces the floor, one hand on her forehead, her chest heaving. She doesn’t look up.

Defeated, Sergio opens the door.

And he leaves.

He can hear Raquel’s hopeless crying from the other side of the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry. ♥️


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! <3
> 
> First, I want to thank you all for reading, for leaving comments and kudos, and for talking to me on Twitter (@untilthesundies). You guys are incredible. ♥️
> 
> Second, you’ll notice that I changed the number of chapters. I wrote an epilogue! Hahaha I hope you guys enjoy this one as well <3

**Madrid, 2017.**

Raquel decides to leave the case.

After three days, she stops wasting time on tears and makes the decision without any hesitancy. 

The decision is met with a lot of resistance — from everyone. From Pietro, from Pietro’s boss, from the entire police. Even from her mother. 

But there is no way she can continue. No. 

First, she can’t turn him in. She can’t, she simply— can’t. So staying would mean lying, and she doesn’t have the energy to do that. 

Second, she has had so many disagreements with the police and— and now, after all that happened, her own perceptions of who is good or bad have started to blur. 

She starts watching the news more. There are videos and more videos of protests, of people supporting the ‘Professor’ and ‘the gang’. Videos of professionals and scholars talking about moral and ethics and ‘resistance’, explaining what the hell is going on in the public opinion. 

She watches YouTube videos. There are tons of people talking about the heist. The overwhelming majority demonstrating support for the robbers. 

One, in particular, catches her attention. It’s a young Professor in Valencia talking about something called _liquidity injection_. 

_“The bank did it. And they would do it again, because— that’s what they do. They steal, and they steal, and nothing is ever done. So the fact that this insane group of people is doing it now, — people like you and me, and not the richest of the rich... That says something to the world.”_ He makes a dramatic pause. _“And the world is listening.”_

Raquel bites her own nail, thoughtful. 

***

When Ángel wakes up, Raquel runs to the hospital to visit him. 

The first thing that crosses her mind when she sees him is that he looks like shit. Her friend still has bandages all over his head, and a big scratch on his right cheek. 

It takes a while for her to say anything at all. She sits on the chair next to the hospital bed and takes his hand, holding the tears in.

Ángel talks first.

He starts by apologizing for all the terrible things he said. Raquel simply dismisses it — she’s more than ready to forgive him. (Although she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to forget those words.)

Ángel, then, starts explaining:

“I knew he was your friend, that’s why I didn’t tell you beforehand. That I was investigating him, that is.” He takes a deep breath. “I imagine that is why you left the case?”

Raquel bites her lip, and holds her friend’s hand. “That is one of the reasons, yes.”

“One of the reasons?”

She nods. “I’m not really sure who’s good and who’s bad anymore. In fact, I... I don’t think I ever knew.”

Ángel sends her a serious look. “I understand.”

“Ángel, I—” Raquel swallows. “I need to know what happened.”

“In my accident?”

Raquel nods. “Yes. I mean... The police said nothing in the car was adulterated. But then, what caused it?”

“The car was fine. That was all me.”

“Ángel...”

“I know. It wasn’t my proudest moment. I was... Well, I was drunk. And I didn’t see anything, I just... Ran straight into that thing.”

Raquel shakes her head. “Are you absolutely sure the car wasn’t adulterated?”

“Yes,” he says with certainty. “I’m one hundred percent sure.”

She breathes in, still a bit preoccupied. “You have to be more careful.”

“I will,” he squeezes her hand. “I promise. Thank you for coming here.”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

He looks at her questioningly. 

“Raquel, are you sure you want to step out now?” He frowns. “I know the address. I can give it to you and— and you can come back. They’ll take you back if you have something that big.”

Shaking her head, Raquel squeezes his hand and sends him a sad smile. 

“I can’t turn him in, Ángel,” she admits. “He’s my best friend. I’ve known him my entire life.”

Ángel nods, understanding. And then, in a quiet, slightly broken voice, he asks: “Are you in love with him?”

Raquel doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks at him warmly, her eyes welling up. 

Ángel looks down at their clasped hands, a sad look in his eyes.

“Am I right to assume that part of you wants him to win?”

Raquel sighs. She feels so damn tired. 

“Yes,” she admits again, shrugging. “Yeah, you’re right to assume that.”

Ángel looks right into her eyes. Then, he nods. 

“Alright,” he breathes out. “Alright.”

***

Raquel follows everything on TV. 

Her heart beats uncontrollably when the reporter starts talking about how this is the biggest heist ever seen — how the police didn’t seem to be able to deal with something that huge. 

Her breathing stops and her whole body _freezes_ when the journalist announces that, unbelievably, the robbers have escaped. They have _escaped_ , and no one knows where any of them are. 

Raquel breathes out, relieved. 

_Thank God._

***

Two months later, Raquel feels changed. 

It’s as if a blindfold has fallen off her face and — and she sees the world differently now. 

After leaving the case, she decides to leave the police altogether. There is no place for her in there anymore. She wonders if there ever was. 

During these two months, she has looked for signs. Something, _anything_ that could tell her where he is. 

It still hurts to think about Sergio. Because even though she understands now, the fact that he lied to her didn’t change. He still lied, and it still hurts, and Raquel—

Raquel misses him.

She needs answers.

He might have left _something_. 

But two months have passed, and she starts to accept that he probably didn’t. 

It’s understandable. After the way they parted, Sergio probably thinks Raquel doesn’t want to see him ever again. 

***

She never gives up looking.

But, as it usually works in life, she finds it when she’s least expecting.

Raquel is simply cleaning her drawers when she suddenly sees it. 

A single, lonely piece of paper. Glued right between two old books, in a drawer she hardly ever opens.

She studies the envelope for two seconds, wondering what the hell it is. And then—

Realization hits her all at once. _Sergio_. 

She opens it in two seconds, her hands trembling. Covering her mouth when she sees his perfect handwriting, her heart on her throat, she starts reading. 

_“Dear Raquel,_

_The day you told me you were getting married, I wrote you a letter._

_I never sent it, though — don’t ask me why. I was probably too scared. But considering how true those words still are, I want you to have it. Even though I am quite a few years late._

_Please, flip the page.”_

She does. Another paper — an older one, — is attached to it. 

She keeps going.

_“Raquel,_

_Choosing the person we want to spend the rest of our lives with is probably one of the most important decisions we’ll ever make._

_I know it sounds quite scary, but it’s true. Because if it’s the wrong decision, then... Then it turns our lives colorless. Black and white. Grey._

_And you... You have brought bright, luminous shades into my life. You walked in, unannounced, and the world was suddenly dazzling. You brought happiness to my sad childhood, and painted my life multicolor; even when I wasn’t paying attention._

_Your friendship is the most unbelievable gift I have ever received. I hope I didn’t take it for granted._

_Maybe I did._

_But Raquel, no matter how many years pass by — no matter how much we both change, — I will always... Completely, fully, and sincerely love you._

_I will always stand guard over your dreams. No matter how weird or twisted they get._

_Yours,  
_ _Sergio.”_

By the time Raquel finishes reading, she is crying so much that her throat hurts. 

She wipes the tears away with trembling fingers. Then, she notices there is one more page attached to the old letter. 

She flips it over, taking a long, deep breath, and continues. 

_“I don’t know when you’ll find this. I hope soon. But if you’re reading this, one out of two things have probably happened:_

  1. _You figured out I am the Professor._
  2. _I managed to finish the heist and had to run without saying goodbye._



_In both options, you know the truth now._

_And in both options, everything I wrote in this letter, so many years ago, remains unarguably true._

_I don’t expect you to understand. But please, don’t you ever doubt that my feelings for you are real. I’ve lied plenty, but not about that. Never about that._

_In my whole life, I’ve only had two obsessions. One, was this heist. The other was you._

_You are, and always will be, my most wonderful memory._

_All my love, always,  
_ _Sergio.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥️
> 
> Soooo, if you saw “Love, Rosie”, you probably noticed I kind of stole Rosie’s speech there. So that’s where the inspiration came from.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I’m dying for some feedback... Hahaha <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies!
> 
> I didn’t have time to answer your comments yet, but I just wanted to say: thank you. You guys fill my heart. ♥️
> 
> I hope you like this (happier) chapter!

**Madrid, 2017.**

It takes Raquel a good half hour to recover.

Mariví hears her compulsive crying and comes to check on her. She sits next to her daughter, takes the letters from her hands and, carefully, starts reading them.

She sheds a tear when she finishes.

“ _Mi amor,_ you have to find him.”

Raquel sniffs. “How, _mamá_? He didn’t give me a _single_ clue. I don’t even know where to begin.” She pauses, taking the letters from Mariví’s hand. “It felt like a goodbye letter.”

Slowly, Mariví holds her face with two hands, wiping away the worst of the tears.

“You know what?” She looks at her daughter with seriousness. “If it’s meant to be, and I believe it is, you will find each other. It might take a while, but you will. Love always finds a way.”

Raquel breathes in, biting her bottom lip.

“But in the meantime... You need to find your own happiness, Raquel.” Mariví’s voice is soft, and Raquel feels so much love for this woman that her heart expands on her chest. “You had all of these dreams... Where did they go?”

“I’m not sure,” she replies. “They got lost along the way. And now I’m too old.”

“Now that’s just offensive,” her mother jokes, making Raquel let out a weak laugh. Then, Mariví lets go of her face, her brows furrowed. With a sudden thoughtful look on her face, she says: “Did you know your father left us a fairly... Fat amount of money?”

Raquel shrugs. “Yeah, I do. But that’s for Paula’s education.”

Mariví shakes her head. “No. There’s more.”

“What?” Raquel turns her head, surprised.

“I’ve been saving it for an emergency. And I think _this_ is our emergency.”

“Mamá, what—”

Her mother smiles, taking her hand.

“What about that hotel you wanted to open in the Philippines?”

* * *

**Palawan, 2019.**

It takes Raquel one year and a half to figure everything out.

She knew that moving to a different country ( _and opening a business_ in a different country) would mean a lot of bureaucracy — she was prepared, yes, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still completely exhausting.

Her mother stays by her side throughout the whole process. As she always did.

They sell the house and move to Palawan without looking back.

***

It’s the hotel’s opening day, and Raquel’s nerves are all over the place.

The building is exactly what she has always dreamed about. A small, comfortable place near the beach, where people can come with their families and loved ones and simply enjoy everything that this beautiful island has to offer.

Far from being a fancy place, the hotel takes one year to be fully completed — but it is worth the wait.

It’s a dream becoming reality, and for the first time in a very long while, Raquel feels _happy_.

***

The sun is shining over the sea. Palawan is overwhelmingly hot, but Raquel feels excited about being able to work in a nice fresh dress instead of the uncomfortable clothes she usually wore back in Spain.

Paula is playing at the entrance while Mariví keeps an eye on her and on possible guests.

It’s exciting, and it’s a dream come true, and Raquel can’t wait for their new life to finally, _truly_ begin.

She looks around the hotel. It looks even prettier than what she pictured. The pastel colors match the shades of the ocean, and it’s— _amazing_. Absolutely amazing.

Raquel smiles, standing behind the reception counter with her heart full.

Then, suddenly, she hears a gasp, followed by Paula’s surprised, happy little voice. “ _Oh, my God!_ ”

Raquel tilts her head, trying to see what’s happening behind the door — but fails. Mariví’s voice echoes from the entrance.

“Raquel, we have our first guest!”

She looks down, shaking her head and smiling fondly.

The door opens.

And— there he is.

In a beautiful, white suit. A hat on top of his head. A breathtaking smile on his lips.

_It can’t be._

Raquel feels heat surging up her spine, butterflies awakening furiously on her stomach. 

It’s as if she’s underwater. Every noise suddenly seem distant. Her body feels lighter and, at the same time, heavier— and she—

_She doesn’t know what to_ _do_. She has no idea what to say. So she keeps gaping at him for a few seconds, her eyes burning with tears, a lump in her throat making it hard to articulate any sound at all.

Her knees feel weak, as if it can’t hold the weight of her body for much longer. So she clutches the edges of the counter, trying to keep her balance — trying to keep the tears in.

She clears her throat. Then, rapidly, wipes away the stubborn tear that insists to fall. She tilts her head, unable to stop looking at his stunning smile, and lets out in a single breath:

“Room for one?”

Sergio opens a wide, sincere smile. His eyes _shine_.

“Well, that depends.” He starts walking closer, removing his hat and placing it next to Raquel’s left hand.

“Hm?” She bites her lip, feeling completely, _absurdly_ out of breath.

Raquel is so lost in Sergio’s eyes that she almost doesn’t notice a small head peaking at the door. She fights the urge to laugh when she sees Paula’s tiny eyes, clearly trying to spy on them.

Sergio looks over his shoulder when they hear Mariví’s voice. “Come on, _cariño_ , come with me.”

“Oh, _abuela_ , but I want to see!” Paula whispers, frustrated. “Don’t you want to see too?”

Mariví laughs, and then whispers back: “yes, Paulita, but you have to be more _discreet_!”

Sergio looks at Raquel again, his face bright scarlet. They both laugh timidly, looking down at their own feet. Their eyes meet again.

“It depends on what?” Raquel inquires, her voice small, heart on her throat.

“It depends on whether the woman I crossed an ocean for wants to join me,” he says nervously, his dark eyes turning bright gold. He fixes his glasses over his nose.

Raquel grins so broadly her face hurts.

“A double room it is, then,” she murmurs, fighting the overwhelming need to simply _jump_ him, right there, in front of her family and—

“Mahalia,” she clears her throat, turning to face the sweet woman she met on the day they arrived in Palawan. They connected so quickly that Raquel didn’t even think twice before offering her a job at the hotel. “Could you kindly show our guest to his room?”

Mahalia looks at her hesitantly. Mariví, then, steps in — of course she was still eavesdropping. “Actually, Mahalia, I need your help down here with all this paper work.” She shakes a handful of paper in front of her face. “Could you do it instead, _mi hija?”_

Raquel sends her mom a warning look. But Mariví simply shrugs, as if she has no idea why Raquel looks nervous, and walks out with Mahalia behind her.

Then it’s just them.

“Any—” Raquel blinks, nervously wetting her lips. “Any baggage?”

“No,” Sergio rapidly replies. “I left those in Spain. And, well, Canada.”

“Very well,” Raquel pauses, opening a drawer and getting the key to the best room they have. “If you’ll follow me...”

They go up the stairs in silence. The air vibrates around them, and Raquel feels over-aware of his presence behind her. It’s unreal, and _fantastic_ , and she’s afraid she’ll _burst_ —

She opens the door with shaking hands and an accelerated heart.

The big window in the center of the room is open, so the sun creaks in beautifully. They can hear the sound of the waves so clearly — Raquel feels as if she’s standing right in the sand.

Sergio closes the door behind them. She walks towards the window, hoping he’ll follow.

He does.

“Raquel, I—” Sergio breathes out, and Raquel spins in order to face him. The sun hits his face and his smile widens. He looks astonishingly handsome.

She takes a step closer, gazing at him from under her long eyelashes. Sergio stops, his mouth hanging— his voice failing.

“Is this safe?” She prompts in the smallest, softest voice.

“ _Yes_ ,” he responds quickly. “Raquel, they... They don’t even know my name. Ángel— he— he never said anything.” Sergio shakes his head, as if he can’t believe his own words. “This is safe.”

Raquel, then— _laughs_ , she laughs in pure, sheer joy, her arms enveloping Sergio’s neck, their foreheads meeting, and—

And she brings her palms to his face, feeling the tears that start to fall. She breathes in, slowly, trying to keep her heartbeat under control. Their lips are so close she can almost taste it.

_“I love you,”_ Sergio whispers against her anxious mouth, his words sending shivers down her spine. “I love you so much I cannot _breathe_.”

Bursting with happiness and delight and pure _wonder_ , Raquel quietly, _finally_ captures his lips on hers— and amazingly, the feeling that overcomes her is plain _relief_. The feel of Sergio’s warm lips moving against hers again is staggering, familiar, and— _everything_. It’s everything.

They part slowly, Sergio’s hand on her cheeks. Then, he presses one, two, three sweet, delightful pecks on her swollen lips. Her breath catches. Their tears mingle.

“I love you too,” Raquel looks right into his eyes, touching him to make sure it’s really real, — terrified he might vanish through her shaking fingers.

“Always did,” he murmurs, emotion marking his voice. “I never stopped.”

“I hope you never do,” she giggles, and he giggles too, _and when they kiss again—_

The whole island might as well disappear, because— in that moment, there is no other person is the world besides Raquel and Sergio. Together. _Finally_ , _enduringly_ , — together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I like happy endings! 😍
> 
> Again, I stole some stuff from Love, Rosie for this chapter. I definitely recommend the movie if you haven’t seen it yet! 
> 
> Pleeeease tell me what you think? I’m kinda nervous about this one! Hahahaha <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!
> 
> Finally, the last chapter before the epilogue.
> 
> It’s quite long, and I hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> Thank you for reading and for accompanying me in this daily update thing. I had a great time, and I hope you guys did too. <3

**Palawan, 2019.**

“I want to know what happened,” Raquel murmurs in-between slow kisses.

She has her back against the wall, Sergio’s hands on her waist. They didn’t manage to move— or to stop exchanging deep, languid kisses, the sun outside already starting to set.

Sergio opens his eyes to look at her confusingly. She bites her lip, suppressing a smile.

“How did it end?” She runs the pad of her thumb over his lower lip. Sergio sends her a hungry look. “The heist.”

He tilts his chin, kissing the center of her palm.

“Can we lie down?”

“Sure.”

She starts walking towards the bed lazily, pulling him by the hand— as if one single second of not being connected would be too much.

Raquel kicks her shoes off and watches as Sergio does the same. He untightens his tie and lies down on his side, and Raquel follows, feeling the sun coming from the window hit her back.

Sergio’s hand looks for hers, interlacing their fingers together. His other one starts tracing the path of her shoulder all the way down to her wrist. Raquel shivers.

“I’m guessing you know what happened to Andrés,” he starts, his voice broken.

She nods. Her chest tightens. “I do,” she breathes out. “I am _so_ sorry, Sergio.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes.

“It’s still hard. I— for some very long months, I thought I had lost everything.” He lets out a muffled laugh. “Except the money.”

Raquel crawls a bit closer, so she can squeeze a leg between his. Sergio sighs.

“I... I can’t forgive myself for their deaths. I know I never will. But I had to keep going, somehow.”

He gazes at her, unblinking.

“I had to find you.”

Raquel’s gaze is intense, her heart bursting. She fights the desperate need to kiss him — because she wants to _hear_. She needs to know what happened.

So instead of pulling him by the neck and pressing their lips together once again, she simply runs her thumb over the back of his hand, encouraging him to keep going.

“Raquel, the only reason why we managed to escape was because Ángel kept quiet. He... He said he didn’t remember anything, that— that he forgot it all after the accident. And something tells me he did that because of you.”

Immediately, her mind goes back to that day at the hospital.

She remembers their conversation, and how Ángel seemed to have his memories just fine.

“Maybe he did it because he knew it was right,” Raquel offers.

“Nah, he did it for you.”

She laughs, her nose wrinkling. Sergio grins broadly. Their noses meet.

“Are you _jealous?”_ Raquel whispers, wetting her lips.

“Maybe,” Sergio’s voice is rough. “But I don’t want to talk about the heist. I want to talk about you.” He swallows. “Us.”

At that, Raquel feels her stomach turn. She looks at him with serious eyes.

“Why didn’t you leave me anything?” Her voice breaks a little, and she takes a deep breath. “Any clue? I’ve looked, I’ve looked for _months_ , but...”

With a hurt expression on his face, Sergio tilts his chin up and presses his lip against hers in a small kiss. Just a swift, light touch— but enough to make the frown on her forehead go away.

“I was coming back for you,” he says, voice hoarse. “But there was no time. Andrés— Andrés wouldn’t come out, and then he— he died, and the plan was...”

Raquel runs her thumbs up and down his temples, trying to let him know that it is okay. _It’s okay_.

He continues.

“The plan was to come back for you. I had everything planned. It was absurd, yes— completely insane. But I had to try.” He takes off his glasses, placing it on the pillow. Raquel wipes a tear on his cheek. “I would make sure they were all out. Andrés would lead the next step and explain where each of them would go, and what to do in case they were ever caught. And I— I had a second boat ready. For the four of us.”

Raquel’s breath catches. She feels her cheeks warming, and her heartbeat fastens.

“The four of us?”

“Of course,” the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. “The chances of you saying yes to my plan were... Against all odds. My estimate was twelve percent.”

Raquel smiles weakly. Her eyes burn, but she holds the tears in.

“And when I added your mom and daughter to the equation, the numbers were even lower. But I— I had to try.”

Unable to hold her emotions in any longer, Raquel pulls him closer, one hand on the back of his neck. Their lips crash together and— and it’s passionate and sweet, all at the same time, electricity running between them.

“I would’ve said yes.” She murmurs sincerely, without a single trace of doubt.

“I know that now,” he replies. “But then... Then Andrés stayed behind, and I— I couldn’t leave the others.”

Now that everything makes sense in her head, Raquel feels relieved. She breathes out, her chest imperceptibly heaving, and meets his eyes.

“I never planned to— to reconnect with you so— so intensely. I thought I’d be able to control it, but...”

Raquel closes her eyes, then opens it again. Her throat hurts from trying to hold the tears in.

She wishes she could go back in time.

“I should’ve told you,” she clears her throat, overcome with love and affection and— _him_. “That night, all those years ago, when— when you told me you were moving to Canada. I should have told you I was ready. I— I should have fought for us.”

Sergio smiles sadly, his shining eyes studying her face. Slowly, he puts a stray of hair behind her ear.

“A long-distance relationship... Back then?” He whistles, making her giggle.

“Well, then— I should’ve kissed you in Blue Mountain.” Raquel pauses, her voice low. “God knows I wanted to.”

Sergio swallows, looking down at her lips. She unconsciously bites on it, and his eyes go darker almost instantly.

Suddenly, then, Sergio shakes his head, as if trying to concentrate on the conversation again.

“And I should have come to your wedding,” he says. “I should have visited you when you had Paula, and I— I shouldn’t have lied to you.” He runs his thumb over her cheekbones. “We both made mistakes. And that’s okay.”

Raquel closes her eyes, welcoming his touch. “I guess you’re right.”

“We’re here now anyways,” he caresses her nose with his own. Raquel smiles lazily. “And I want to see your island.”

She laughs, opening her eyelids and blinking slowly. “Let’s go see the island.”

***

Palawan is beautiful.

They spend the whole day at the beach — and Sergio never thought he would ever be a person who enjoyed the sand and the salt, but watching Raquel walk under the sun, her golden hair beautifully falling on her shoulders and back, is— is inexplicable.

Paula walks like she has been living here her whole life. Raquel doesn’t let her go to the water by herself, but they seem to have so much fun together that the young girl doesn’t even mind.

The three of them sit on the sand, the waves hitting their feet every now and then. Raquel brushes Paula’s long hair while Sergio watches them, his elbow resting on one knee, his chin over his palm.

It’s the first time in a long while that Sergio takes off his suit. He sits shirtless in front of the ocean, only a thin layer of fabric covering his legs.

Looking over her shoulder, Raquel meets his gaze. They smile shyly, and Sergio looks down at his feet, burying them in the sand.

It feels like a beautiful — _unbelievable_ — beginning.

***

Paula passes out under the umbrella a few hours later.

“The beach always does that to her,” Raquel explains while she carefully picks her up.

Sergio helps her grab their stuff and they silently walk together towards the hotel.

Mariví and Mahalia smile when they spot them.

“Twelve guests in total,” Mariví excitedly announces, clasping her hands together.

Raquel’s smile is so big that Sergio’s heart flutters.

“That’s great for the opening day,” Mahalia offers.

“Alright, I’ll bring this one upstairs and let her sleep a bit. I just— I need a shower, and then we go celebrate a little, yeah? Does that sound good?”

They nod happily, and Sergio finds himself nodding along.

***

They let Paula sleep in the free room next to Sergio’s. Raquel leaves a note on the bedside table ( _‘Hija, I am in the room next door, 405. Abuela is downstairs with Mahalia. Don’t think you’ll sleep again without taking a shower! Love, Mamá.’)._

They’re all staying in the hotel tonight — Raquel figured it would be easier, at least for the opening day. The little girl seems exhausted, and doesn’t even twitch when Raquel puts her down.

“Do you mind if I take a shower in your room?” She tilts her head. Sergio grins. “I don’t want to wake her up.”

Sergio takes her hand. Pulling her closer, his voice is hoarse when he whispers:

“Only if you let me join you.”

Raquel smirks. Her heart expands. “Deal.”

***

Surprisingly, it starts slow.

Raquel stands barefoot in the bathroom, sighing as she feels the cold tiles against her skin. She pushes the thin strap of her dress down her left shoulder— then does the same with the right one. Sergio supports his weight over the sink, watching her back while she undresses.

The dress falls to the floor and Raquel steps out of it, kicking it away to one corner. Sergio crosses his arms, feeling ridiculously nervous, and fixes his glasses.

She starts undoing the lace of her bikini. First, the top— then, the bottom.

He takes off his glasses, placing it somewhere over the sink. The pieces of fabric falls down in slow-motion, and Sergio forgets how to breathe.

She turns around, finally seeing his face, and— and _smiles_. She smiles, and Sergio is _gone_.

Then, very, very slowly, Raquel takes two steps closer. She touches his sides with both hands, moving her fingers up his stomach and chest, until she reaches his shoulder. Enveloping her arms around his neck, Raquel brings their bodies together — her naked front fits perfectly against him, and he twitches under the fine fabric of his pants.

Sergio is glad he’s already shirtless, because— because feeling her against him after more than a year is— _everything_.

She’s everything.

Raquel kisses the corner of his mouth, and Sergio lets his hands wander down until it reaches the curve of her ass, making her gasp. And when they kiss, it’s— it’s intense and passionate and _dirty_ , and Sergio has never felt this much before, and it’s wonderful and overwhelming and _breathtaking_.

When they part, Raquel takes a moment to look down, Sergio’s erection visible through his pants. She looks up again, eyes hungry and dark, so dark, and— and pushes his pants down, getting rid of it in seconds, taking his underwear off at the same time.

She steps into the shower, bringing him with her and immediately pressing his back against the cold glass wall. She turns the shower head on, the cold water hitting their feet— and comes closer, biting his earlobe lightly. He shivers and grabs her waist, pulling her closer.

The water starts to heat, and Sergio sighs.

“I want to feel you,” Raquel whispers as she moves one hand down, slowly wrapping her fingers around Sergio’s erection. He gasps loudly, his open mouth against hers, his hands pressing her waist firmly. “I thought about this for so long...”

“Raquel—”

Sergio wants to do this right.

He wants to show her just how loved she is, how— how much he cares for her, how much he wants this to be _perfect_ —

So he grabs her waist with one hand, her left thigh with the other, and lifts her off the floor. Raquel wraps her legs around him and Sergio presses her against the wall, sighing in relief when he feels her against him.

Raquel is a force of nature. The way she gives herself over so— so surely, so boldly— makes Sergio wonder how he managed to live so many years without this.

“Now,” she gasps, her fingers sinking on the skin of his shoulders. “Now, please—”

And then— with the sound of water hitting the tiles, Sergio’s heart beating on his throat, he holds the back of her head with one hand and looks right into her piercing golden eyes. They breathe together, Raquel’s hair half-wet, droplets of water falling from her eyelashes.

Sergio doesn’t move his gaze as he starts entering her— ever so slowly, Raquel’s eyes closing and her mouth hanging open, the tiniest moan falling from her lips.

Sergio feels her mouth brush against his. He waits until she opens her eyes again, because— because he needs her to _see,_ he needs her to see it in his eyes, how— how _desperately_ he loves her.

He needs her to understand that — yes, he lied. He didn’t plan to, but he did.

But not about that. Never about that.

When Raquel opens her eyes, looking right into his, Sergio starts moving. He thrusts his hips slowly, feeling her opening up around him, the warm water hitting his back repeatedly. Raquel’s heels are firm on the curve of his waist, holding her in place, and Sergio lets go of her thigh to intertwine his fingers with hers, placing the back of her hand against the wall— right on top of her head.

Raquel’s groans are quiet. He feels his cock pulse inside her when she breathes against his ear, telling him to go _faster, stronger_ — and he obeys, because— because he has no other option other than _giving_ ; because seeing her like this would always, always drive him right to the edge.

Raquel starts moving as well, her fingers getting lost inside his hair, her lips closing over his again and again— only stopping when there is not enough air. She lets go of Sergio’s hand and lets her open palm hit the glass, a louder moan escaping her lips this time. Throwing her head back and gasping, she _pulses_ around him, and Sergio feels his chest explode.

It’s as if— as if she’s trying to make this last longer. He understands; he doesn’t want it to end either.

But he also knows that now they have all the time in the world.

“ _Let go,_ ” he whispers against her ear as his fingers find the _exact_ spot, where he knows she’s most sensitive. “Let go, Raquel.”

And she does— grabbing him again, she presses her forehead against his and squeezes the skin on the back of his neck, thrusting one, two, three times— until she’s trembling in his arms, spasms taking over.

Sergio follows right after. Seeing her like this is exactly what takes him _there_ , and he— he spills inside her, his chest heaving, his heart bursting.

The water gets cold by the time they catch their breaths again.

***

They end up in the bathtub.

After taking an actual shower and washing away the sand and salt, they decide to move there. Raquel lies on his chest while Sergio rests his head on the wall, his hand moving up and down her stomach, making the water move as well.

She is the first to break the silence.

“Will you stay?”

Sergio presses a wet, warm kiss to her shoulder.

“For as long as you’ll have me.”

She turns her head, looking over her shoulder, trying to meet his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Raquel _beams_. There is no sign of hesitancy or doubt on his voice. Resting her head against his shoulder, she relaxes against his arm.

“I know you’re a multimillionaire now, but I... I want to keep the hotel.” Raquel sighs heavily when Sergio’s fingers run up her stomach. “I want to keep working. This was my dream for so long, and besides... It’s the perfect cover, don’t you think?”

Sergio is about to agree when Raquel interrupts him, finishing her thought:

“It’s also a perfect way to launder the money.”

Sergio’s chin falls. He gapes, absolutely surprised and taken off guard.

He hugs her tighter, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re the woman of my dreams,” he jokes lastly, making Raquel throw her head back and laugh.

He starts placing sweet, clumsy kisses all over her neck and cheeks— and she laughs louder, ticklish.

When he stops, Raquel moves in his arms. She stops when they’re face to face, noses almost touching.

“Are you really staying?” She asks sincerely, one hand caressing his side. “I come with baggage, you know? I have a young daughter, a sick mother...”

Then, Sergio interrupts her by joining their lips. She breathes in through her nose, and he makes the kiss last only a little bit longer than he intended.

When they part, Raquel’s eyes are huge.

“Raquel, do you know what my happiest memory is?” He asks out of a sudden. She simply shakes her head. “The week we were together.”

“Sergio...” she moves her hand to his neck, her thumb caressing his beard.

“I mean it. Even— that even includes the night we broke up. We managed to transform a sad situation into a beautiful moment, and I— I never managed to erase it.”

Raquel hides her nose on his neck.

“I love you,” Sergio continues. “Always have, and always will.”

“I love you too,” Raquel whispers against his skin, as if she simply _needs_ to say the words back.

“So yes, I’m staying. Unless you tell me to go.”

“Please stay,” she hugs him tighter, pressing one last, lingering kiss to his collarbone.

***

Sergio does.


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand... Finally the end.
> 
> I hope you guys have enjoyed this as much as I did. It’s the first time I manage to keep the promise of updating constantly, so I’m proud of myself! Hahaha ♥️
> 
> If anyone wants to talk, I’m always on Twitter (@untilthesundies) and I have tons of one-shots on Spirit (you can find me there under the same username, stilldancing). It’s all written in Portuguese, but Google Chrome should do the job in translating ;)
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading, and for your comments and kudos. It really means a lot ♥️

**Palawan, 2019.**

The day Sergio arrives in Palawan, they celebrate the hotel’s opening right there at the reception.

Mariví prepares some delicious _tapas_ , while Paula is responsible for the music — which results in some loud laughter when Frozen’s ‘ _Love is an Open Door_ ’ suddenly starts playing. (‘ _But, Mamá, it’s for you and Sergio!’_ , Paula keeps exclaiming).

Mahalia kindly offers to make some special drinks, and Sergio helps Raquel turn on the lights at the reception and the garden. They serve the guests together, stealing a piece of food every now and then.

It’s a very nice start of a new life, Sergio decides.

***

**Palawan, 2020.**

> [ _Beauty queen of only eighteen, she_](https://youtu.be/yfd_d0m46q0)
> 
> _Had some trouble with herself_

Sometimes, when Sergio looks at Raquel, he sees glimpses of the teenage girl he fell in love with.

It’s usually in her childish laughter— the way her nose and the corner of her eyes wrinkle, and how her whole body seems to laugh along with her.

Sergio learns to love the sand and the salt. Especially when it’s glued to Raquel’s skin— he relishes in washing it off of her at the end of the day, the smell of soap and vanilla filling his nostrils.

When the sun hits her and illuminates her face, the grains of salt on her eyelashes shine like tiny pieces of diamond and, paradoxically, it makes Sergio think of snowflakes. It’s impossible not to think of Blue Mountain — about that night she came back to the cabin with ice in her eyes, her red cheeks colder than the wind outside.

> _He was always there to help her, she  
> _ _Always belonged to someone else_

It feels like a lifetime ago.

Maybe it was.

He thinks of the stars on the roof of his old childhood bedroom. They sat under there so many times — and only once did he have her— completely.

Once.

Little did he know that he would never find that feeling elsewhere.

He tried.

But— it was pointless.

It’s _her_. It would always be her.

Sergio looks at Raquel’s tanned cheeks, and notices the way her freckles stand out now. He touches them with the tip of his fingers — just because he _can_. His heart expands as he watches her smile grow.

> _I drove for miles, and miles,  
> _ _And wound up at your door_

At the same time life seemed to put more and more obstacles on their way, their paths always ended up crossing.

Sergio doesn’t believe in destiny. Or fate. But if there is something as such, he knows Raquel is his.

She blinks lazily, the sun hitting her face. The island is beautiful at the end of the day, and Sergio decides that quiet afternoons like this are his favorite thing about Palawan.

They’re lying in a towel, Raquel’s head resting comfortably on the sand while Sergio holds his own weight in one elbow, his free hand still touching her face. Raquel kisses his thumb, then lightly bites on it. He shivers— pulling her closer for a slow, lazy kiss.

> _I’ve had you so many times, but  
> _ _Somehow I want more_

Sergio wants to marry her.

He didn’t realize before, but he’s been waiting for her his whole life.

Breaking the kiss slowly — with one final peck, — he starts pressing his lips against the corner of her mouth; then, her chin— and the tiny scar on her jaw, moving up until he reaches the soft skin under her ear. He’s almost overwhelmed with affection and love, the sound of the breaking waves loud in his ears.

> _I don't mind spendin' everyday  
> _ _Out on your corner in the pourin' rain_

He opens his eyes only to find her huge, bright ones, glancing right back at him.

Sergio opens his mouth. He should ask her — right now, right here.

But the words won’t come out.

> _Look for the girl with the broken smile  
> _ _Ask her if she wants to stay awhile_

Raquel has been married before. And— and it didn’t exactly end well.

Her marriage brought her so much pain. Sergio usually has a plan for everything — but he has no clue on how to fix that part of her past.

Raquel sends him a confused look; then touches his cheek.

“A penny for your thoughts?” She whispers jokingly, her voice rough.

Sergio grins.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he answers— simply, without even giving it a second thought.

He doesn’t need to think twice when it comes to that. 

> _And she will be loved_

Raquel glows. Her smile is so bright, so incredibly beautiful, that— that he has no other option other than kissing her again, tasting the salt still on her lips.

“Sergio?” She murmurs, trying to catch his attention. He separates their mouths with difficulty, wishing moments like this would never end.

“Yes?”

“I want to marry you.”

Her voice is soft, as is the touch of her fingers against his face. Sergio’s heartbeat fastens, and— and he wants to hear the words again, because— they’re magical, and beautiful, and— _and how did she know that’s exactly what he was thinking about?_

“Are you proposing?” He giggles, their breaths mingling.

“Maybe,” she teases back.

“Just so you know, my answer is yes.”

Their lips brush when Raquel replies:

“Let’s do it on this beach. I know the perfect place.”

> _Tap on my window, knock on my door, I  
> _ _Want to make you feel beautiful_

“But you have to ask first.” Sergio can’t help teasing, his hands moving up and down her side.

Raquel hides her face, biting her lip to hide a broad smile. She covers her mouth with one hand and looks up at him with fun eyes. Then, she suddenly surges up and _jumps_ him, making him lie down on the towel they’re sitting, her weight over him.

“Sergio.” Her tone is serious, a big contrast to the childish gleam in her eyes. She intertwines their fingers, holding Sergio’s hands over his head. “Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” he replies, his glasses starting to get blurry. “Right here, on this beach.”

“On this beach.”

> _I know I tend to get so insecure  
> _ _It doesn’t matter anymore_

When their lips finally, finally touch, his hands sliding up her naked back, they are — suddenly, abruptly interrupted. Raquel breaks the kiss with an _‘oof!’,_ the weight of another — tiny — body jumping right on her back.

Sergio feels two small hands on his beard, and laughs when Paula starts tickling her mother.

“ _Mami! Abuela_ is making me eat cauliflowers!”

Raquel and Sergio laugh loudly, making the young girl pout a little.

“Can I stay here with you? Pleeease?”

“Did you eat the rest of your food?”

Paula nods.

“Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes!”

“Then sure.” Raquel smiles, tickling her back a bit before turning, resting her back on Sergio’s chest and helping the little girl lie down between her legs.

“Sergio...” Paula turns her head to look at him, sitting right behind Raquel. “Can you continue the story?”

“Now?” He asks, fixing his glasses with one hand. “You don’t want to save it for bedtime?”

“No! I want to hear the rest of it.”

He laughs, affection washing over him. “Alright. Of course.”

Raquel kisses the top of Paula’s head, lacing her fingers with his again and resting their joined hands on Paula’s tiny stomach.

“Where did I stop?”

“The part where they go to the mountain in Canada!”

“Oh, right.”

Sergio, then, starts telling Paula all about the trip a young couple of friends did back in the 90s. He changes their names and tells her their story — saving some details, of course, but still including enough to make the younger Murillo widen her eyes in curiosity, anxious to know the rest of it.

> _It’s not always rainbows and butterflies,  
> _ _It’s compromise that moves us along_

Raquel listens along, squeezing his hand when he talks about that cozy night in the cabin. If Sergio closes his eyes, he can still feel the warm heat of the fireplace hit his face, the snow falling outside— such a huge contrast to where they are now.

> _My heart is full and my door’s always open  
> _ _You can come anytime you want_

Years from now, Paula would figure it out. She would find some old pictures on her mother’s drawer and, eventually, she would join the dots. It would be just a few days before she turned 18-years-old, and Palawan would be just as beautiful.

In the future, when the time is right, she will know it was their story. But for now—

For now, Sergio lets the words fall from his lips, _relishing_ on the feeling of having them right there on his arms, watching the sun start to set in the horizon.

And maybe, _maybe_ — in that exact moment, with Raquel’s hand clasped in his and Paula’s wide eyes staring at him in anticipation...

That is when Sergio starts to believe in fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo? 🥺
> 
> I hope you guys liked their happy ending!  
> I almost didn’t use the song, because... Well. But it was stuck in my head for two weeks and it made me think of them so much that I had to do it. Let me know what you thought of this story!
> 
> And once again, thank you. So so so much. ♥️


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